Monochrome strings, fizzled out currents,
Dull thumps, dead thumps, redrum me,
The theatre of my undoing and my banes,
The graveyard of unburied, broken dreams;

The heart was made to feel and Lord, I felt,
The vacuity of a thousand dead suns,
The gravity of a tempered yellow star,
What grows the more you take away?

The grief of the fireflies, burned without the fade,
The oddity of a moonflower for one glorious dusk,
None of this makes sense and neither do I,
Lost in the plot, lost a lot, take out the glock;

The revenants of my wounds have resurfaced,
I slip across it's horizon, overcome by it's strength,
Just me and Lana tonight, let the wildflower burn,
Tomorrow's dusk, I'll still be here.