Quietus

(альбом: Bring Me Back When The World Is Cured - 2022)

I think this is my quietus, instincts always sing quietest
Turing has been quite a test , I blink and I'm on fire

I don't wanna go outside, got the weight of the world inside
Gums flap but they're misguided, thumb tacks stick into my eyelids
In dreams I can see violets, I weave in between silence and
Screams when I seek solace in things that don't bring solace
I think I can reach Zion one day if I bleed often
Roam catacombs I hide in Burn bridge til I live island
Burn bridge til I'm with sirens Furnace when I get fired up
Her kiss can rescuss vitals Joan Arc at the witch trials
Watch world through a bleak iris In a field full of pink iris
I'm filled up with grief lifeless But still want to be righteous

I think this is my quietus, instincts always sing quietest
Turing has been quite a test, I blink and I'm on fire

No love on a strict diet, coal heart turned into a diamond
Poke holes in it with a trident, if you don't care why'd you try then?
Cry oceans to Poseidon, will they listen, do they hear you?
Send locusts from the Bible, ten plagues sitting in my clear blues
Tip-toeing while I'm on a tight-rope, see evil while I wear a blindfold
No fear we're all gonna die soon, those tears must've been a typhoon
My fantasies ring violence, my pen only inks ricin
These sea levels keep rising, see hell when I read climates
These preachers are never pious, my teachers we're better liars
I sleep on a bed of razor blades, love letters unrequited

I think this is my quietus, instincts always sing quietest
Turing has been quite a test, I blink and I'm on fire

Feel stuck in between vices, ignored all of their advices
Set mines detonate my mindset, dead eyes looking in my windows
Bread crumbs leading through the wildwoods, Redrum when I hold that knife grip
Cold shoulders so I get the ice-pick, turn any moment to a crisis
Is it loss if I have to die young? Time go by with the bygones
Die twice like a messiah, why try when I'm pariah?
God strike me with your lightning, my neck hang it by a kite-string
These strings puppeteer violins, these wings leaving me flightless
Poke holes when I get defiant, before the ghosts all begin to riot
Never know what the total price is, without dark we can't see the light hit

I think this is my quietus, instincts always sing quietest
Turing has been quite a test, I blink and I'm on fire