Nervosa

(альбом: Everything Was Sound - 2016)

Look straight through me look at the nightmare.
Our past is but a dream that we're trying to escape, trying to evade to erase ourselves.
Look through me and see the advent of our obsessions.
Behold, your child, perfection a rotting shell of atrophy

Watching: Crowds like crows, we furiously flock to tragedy; observe the hurt then hasten back to our peaceful, quiet nests of blasphemy
Scapegoat: Rather die and know, drag your failing body in tow witnessing the wake, conflagrate the ready oil at the stake
Binging: The culmination of purging what our lusts have borne. We hoarded all the world to find we'd lost any semblance of ourselves.

This dying dance

I am not my own reflection. I am not myself, I am not myself.
No, I am haunted by a non-existent Lover:
The spectre, the ghost, the soul-starving host.
I am haunted by a non-existent lover

I was gifted with the vision, but cursed to be the witness.

I'll be pale to match the walls and warped to trace the beams;
flushed to fit across the floor so you can step right over me.
Scouring this filthy slate these crooked bones they won't break straight
cracked and splintered like our house, upended by that first summer squall

Fading: so thin, you could snap me into the shape you need gaunt enough to slide through that wedding dress.
Then stitch me to a fraying matrimony embalmed inside a never-ending ceremony.

I am not my own reflection. I am not myself, I am not myself.
No, I am haunted by a non-existent Lover:
The spectre, the ghost, the soul-starving host.
I am haunted by a non-existent lover

I was gifted with the vision but cursed to be the witness

Invisible to me… invisible to me… invisible to me