White Smoke

(álbum: New Junk Aesthetic - 2009)

Put me to rest before it spreads.
It's not long until the bugs eat through to the castle wall and besiege my noble heart.
New flags are raised.
Cut off the gangrened limb.
In case it begins at the neck.
Save yourself from me.
Save yourself from me.

Please, once and for all.
The impact is dead ahead so take the gun and apply the brakes.
I can feel the onset of lust course through my veins.

Help me let go. Hell in holding on.
Help me let go. Hell is holding on.

So relieve me of life.
Give me what I came here to get.
I'm not coming home.
Not coming home.
Not coming home.

Be it undead or dogs, they will come for what's mine.
Though I put up no fight at all it's not my fault.
And so on.
And so on.
And so on.
And so on.
This is not me. This is not me.

You can't mute the virus once it screams your name.
I've changed the guards at the gate for the sake of the king.
This plea is old hat.
These bites are old hat.
This song is old hat.
Every word is old hat.

I'm not coming home.
Not coming home.
Not coming home.

Be it undead or dogs, they will come for what's mine.
Through I put up no fight at all, it's not my fault.
Happy dagger. Make it brief.
Happy dagger. Be brief.
Happy dagger. Make it brief.
Happy dagger. Be brief.

Start the chemical fires.
Chimneys bleed white smoke.
Before the worms even find me the crowd is given new hope.