Mulling over those who determine to consciously live an ironic lifestyle
A little piece of my eye fell off
Then it slowly floated away
Had I not seen anything, I never would have known
But a small bit of light was blocked out
I'm an easy target, but who are you to tell me I can't make fun
I'm literally losing a way to see with your b-sides beside me
This time as the room drinks in water I will listen to your voice
And feel rather nice about not ever waking up again in this dry skin
I breathe in your nuances in endless succession
"I love you. It's murder". It's me
When will I fall under the spell of the lords of slumber?
On "Tormentors", I heard thunder
The perfection in this timing makes me wonder
"When there's nothing to care for," nothing to love anymore
It's the control that you adore
Now start the faucet and close the door