staring down the firing line down the barrel of a gun
it makes me feel like your winning when theres nothing to be won,
you see im not quite sure what it will take for me to break
patronising good faith turned to hero far to late
suffocating trash and cherry tastes so much like home
and home is only where this heart shant not freely roam
so while you lay avast in your coffin all alone
ill carve this filthy heart and replace its blood with my own
it takes all of me to keep my eyes off the floor
this makes tomorrow seem harder than ever before. because its just..
more of the same
and all i need is for you to remember my name
.
.
.
speak to the dark angels