This autumn season
For fall scented candles
Give depression a reason
To prove a counterexample

For fall scented candles
Remind us of winter
To prove a counterexample
How people wither

Remind us of winter
Seasonal depression's returns
How people wither
With personal concerns

Seasonal depression returns
To prepare for a storm
With personal concerns
Leaving little warm.

Give depression a reason
To prepare for a storm
Leaving little warm
This autumn season.

Gets no love the one who doesn't love.
It's not Karma, but simple logic.
Even if he does, it's a sort of odds,
Making the canon candid.

It's not Karma, but simple logic;
The misanthrope is alone -
Who doesn't like water, will suffocate in,
Who doesn't like life, will be perishing in.

The misanthrope is alone.
This is all a matter of nature-
One may hide in a mass like serpent,
Still being poisonous, threatening.

This is all a matter of nature;
The old song of yin and yang-
Darkness isn't overthrown by brightness,
But they fulfill the scheme of destiny.

The old song of yin and yang-
The side uncursed by goodness
Is the side blessed with senselessness,
Extreme plainness and severity.

The side uncursed by goodness
Fulfills the dark side of the bright -
Without looking for doing the right
Since it's all self-implemented.

Fulfilling the dark side of the bright,
Giving chance for the light,
And bearing all the dark of the moon,
He may be a hero, the antigone.

Giving chance for the light,
Getting no love while another does,
We - people - serve perfect bad examples
For there's no hero without Antihero.

Getting no love while another does,
Even if getting that's out of odds;
Darkness isn't overthrown by brightness,
But each fulfills a scheme in destiny.

We've been and we'll be gone even as antigone.

the one who thinks he always knows best
tightly wrapped in his safety vest
of surety, ignorance and pompous prattle
never aware he lost the battle

never a care for a fact or a lesson
he's content with merely guessing
before he even knows the question
he's already got suspections

yeah, suspections
it IS a word
why would I look it up?
I already heard

and I said it
so that makes it a - what?

No, I don't "always know best"
fine, then
why don't you finish the rest?

In the wake of darkness
I could pick you out of a crowd
Just by the smell of your scent
Because it's my favorite perfume

I could pick you out of a crowd
With no doubt in my mind
Because it's my favorite perfume
You wear it all the time

With no doubt in my mind
I would wear it when you no longer do
You wear it all the time
I will not ever stop taking it in

I know you are my mother
Just by the smell of your scent
No matter where I am
Even in the wake of darkness

When you are flavor of the week,
you’re the taste of rusted nails in a sea of teeth
from biting at the inside of my cheek.
I mourn the screams buried underneath my tongue.

You’re the taste of rusted nails in a sea of teeth
because you speak a language of silence.
I mourn the screams buried underneath my tongue.
They are so delicate

because you speak a language of silence,
from biting at the inside of my cheek.
They are so delicate
when you are flavor of the week

I'm feelin' pretty tipsy now
Dancing to the beat, huh
Hey, sweep me off my feet
And take me to the moon

Dancing to the beat, huh
Serve me a martini
And take me to the moon
So we could eat the stars

Serve me a martini
And we'll run away, yeah
So we could eat the stars
Tiny bite-sized bits

So we could eat the stars
Hey, sweep me off my feet
Tiny bite-sized bits
I'm feelin' pretty tipsy now

I called her a golden goddess
As she walked up to me
With the sword in her hand
She cut away my fears

As she walked up to me
I couldn't help but smile
She cut away my fears
And didn't leave a trace

I couldn't help but smile
As she held me in her arms
And didn't leave a trace
Hypnotizing with her charm

As she held me in her arms
With the sword in her hand
Hypnotizing with her charm
I called her a golden goddess