You start to scream, like we're making a scene
I must remind you this is, not a movie
You couldn't help but play the queen
You left them, all at your feet

I've come to believe it, I've come to believe it
It's like my mouth opened over the pavement
But fake as you can, tell them all why you started this panic

You were a ghost, from late October
I will be one come summer
I saw this world like a paper
And you could not ever stay here

Now I believe it, now I believe it
It's like my mouth opened over the pavement
and how could you think I, I wouldn't know this?

Speak quite a storm, with a small mouth
and I barely sleep in my, in my own house.
Stare, stare at me and I, and I might transform

All hail the queen still,
I've never seen a witch this mean.

Speak quite a storm, with a small mouth
and I barely sleep in my, in my own house.
Fake as you can, tell them all why you started this panic

Be true & be clean for this picture.

A dollar speaks more than you have these days.

The bodies build.

A heart beats & the music drowns its steady thump.



So, with silence, what changes?


A taste?
Or was it hatred?

Bring me hope lover, bring me lower.

On flat tires, two hundred miles per hour.
A foreign language becomes illusion no more.
Fade & bring yourself out.

A cleare picure when the squinting is mastered.

Master this & you will sink ships.

The hollow below my eye, filling with darkness to flaunt a stolen memory.

I've never shamed discord into melody.

Yet I've never made my here alone.

Those nights which really aren't.

In hurry, a thousand mistakes breathe life into iron lungs.

The vessels of such

smile

& bring their infancy quicker towards Death.

How will the words move from stars?
And how will intelligence betray us all whilst we sleep,
wondering which lip's kiss tells which arm to part?

Feel this & unpack the ocean.
Run to red & flail in disgust.

Knowing myself too well,
an epiphany which lets go easily.

My heart sings another's song.
Whole selfless faith.
An obstacle in its eyes.

Alabama flowers.
Mountains of metal.
Rumors of a wasp's nest.

Your mouth opens
and your feet trample over
past ones loved.

Your face,
bringing peace to Earth.
And to us far away.

With a wrist to shred
you remind me
there is nothing worth gaining.

So all hail the Queen that's never seen.

A picture for those darkest times.

On a pale, clean night.
Tires screech.
Waking me.