Gost Wrapped In Wax
The flood surrounds you, piercing eyes
Nobody loves you but they want you, right now
This is erasure, as we pine
Assembled in rows, for your choosing, lucky girl
Uphold their morals, for a mile
Horizontal fading, in the distance, all the while
You see the wilting, bleed the writhing on the wall
This is a simple, lust for trusting, hand to hold
No we aren't desperate, this is all we have to fall
Inherent murder of the crows funeral
