A song bird through the winds of a pinhole camera.
I saw nothing.
I was blind.
In between a black hole of supernovas is where you'll find me.
Imploding and explaning simultaneously may no longer break.

I've been running away for so long.
When I finally caught myself
There wasn't much left.
The scripts last page is blank,
And the medicine is gone.


A sick bastard.
A twister of dark matter.
On a heavier strip than you
Can comprehend.

A tornado.
Trying to mend the life that's shattered.

Waiting for nothing to begin,
A fine line my inception burns.


King me is killing me.
King me is killing me.


I hate the depassed places I was born in.
Now the faces of blank shun have ended.
I don't recognize the pity that recall them.
A quill book, that I can never, never read again.
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A fine line my inception burning us.
Now the lights fade, this hurts worse now.


King me is killing me.
King me is killing me.
King me is killing me.
King me is killing me.


Killing me.

All of that is hitting and never ever risen.
Survive my shots that of mouts that have risen.
A pointing to lift and to see the day.
I swear I'll never sleep again I will never sleep.


I will end the fort lift, Sleeping in the cloud.
This dungeon is grinding life from today.
The president always dies with future memories.
King me. Is killing me.
Cut wide open and bleed to death for all to see.


King me is killing me.
King me is killing me.
King me is killing me.
King me is killing me.


It's killing me.
He won't kill me.
It's killing me.
He won't kill me.

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