This tastes like a bad dream
And its scent, the bitterness of the night.
I have watched me save myself from you
But these memories hold me tight
like skin holds these blood vessels
from spilling blood.
These memories call me like a curse
That looms an abattoir.

Dear, the adrenalin kept me standing
The fear of being wrong kept me coming
This magic, your magic kept me wanting
Wanting what you could never give.

So now, you take to the hills crying fowl.
You tell all that my garment smells foul.
You open up flesh and leave these open scars
You open up while I drop my cards.

This still tastes like a bad dream
And I wrap it under my sleeves
A souvenir for wounds we can't mend
My heart was once made of tissue
But now it textures dark leather