shortage of purpose, hoarding importance, if the mean's out of stock I'll take more gulp down the excess, bloodbath in a nice dress if I cannot love, I'll adore oh my sweet angel darling, do not you fret death has a kind voice and has not called me yet and you'll be so brave when my sun starts to set and you will remember my love oh, what a relief it'll be to be free of this carcass, this puppet that bleeds hogtied in beautiful deeds buried beneath the idea of me tell me the truth, if you know it or else something nice'd be fine paint me in youth, no withholding my best, better clean than alive it's alright
















