Attrition The Decline
My garden is quiet
The dead are alive
They're hurting for feeling
Their heads touch the ceiling
The glass is all broken
The landscape is wasted
The passion devoured
It's nearly the hour
The sky is collapsing
The walls are so tall
The ground is all twisted
I'm eating my sister
The colour is reddening
I can't go to bed again
I saw you flicker on a picture
I saw you attacking a man
In Vietnam
The hour of decline
