I put my cigarette out on my thick dead skin
I feel no pain, I see no sin
I bleed with ink and ash falls
Off my foggy head.
During the autopsy
Kind pathologist will find the ashtray
In the web of darkened arteries
Some other gray day
During my days of eternal physical struggle
The roads of dirt made my feet bleed tears
I’ll go to sleep once I wrap myself with fears
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 11:52 AM UTC
I put my cigarette out on my thick dead skin
I feel no pain, I see no sin
I bleed with ink and ash falls
Off my foggy head.
During the autopsy
Kind pathologist will find the ashtray
In the web of darkened arteries
Some other gray day
During my days of eternal physical struggle
The roads of dirt made my feet bleed tears
I’ll go to sleep once I wrap myself with fears
