Exit (US-TX) - Confessional lyrics

There's a count to four, and it's my count. a singular line of each one of you, systematically, straight and tall and blank, stares straight ahead - singled out and straightened out. give me an eight count and the gun will rise, straightening out misplaced treasures: drowning holes you took from me. this is the holiday season. One, two, three, four: tan and red marks on the door. one by water, two by fire, three by hand and four by steel. new bedpost marks and love comes clear. one silver bullet; one werewolf heart.