You said I was your favorite You are my favorite I look young but I'm an old soul Thank you I want to rip out your lower back And s** the air out of your lungs And wrap my hands around your neck And collapse your throat And squish your thorax And kiss you The cuts in my head I can't feel Friends are everywhere but I'm always leaving Dismantling us with rumors You have some f**ing weird friends Always taking photos and collecting numbers What do they do with all that stuff? I barely remember your face But I think of you constantly But each repetition becomes submission Becomes more abstract True rumors I said I wanted children but not now They stopped collecting the trash Time is destroying us This job of mine is just depression and longing I feel sick again Fleshstone Please don't admire me I'm sick again These fleshstones are bruised The cuticles are white and sting Moments have consequences The devil is waiting Perpetual