Bleeding over phone lines, voice and vibration spilled like rain on broken pavement, and you have fallen, fallen from grace
By fair-weather friends, wolves in white wool baying, now you're dead in my eyes
Always begging for more, more blood more saltine tears, more sweat off the brows of desperate men, cut to the bone by these thorns
Bleeding over phone lines, voice and vibrations, I still, I still feel, as if I let you die
This machine is a rusted quest gone dry, I feel submerged in this flesh covered vessel, you take the knife and you slice to the core
Remove my heart that tears oxidized to orange. I'm broken and you f**ing know it
You turned your backs on me, you turned your backs on us
You turned your backs on us, brotherhood took its own life, seeing the pain it bred. You turn your back on me
Bleeding over phone lines, voice and vibration spilled like rain on broken pavement
And you have fallen, fallen from grace, by fair-weather friends, wolves in white wool, baying
Now you're dead in my eyes