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The Skeletons( Skeletons )

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The Skeletons( Skeletons )

Brainsick

Tripping at the madhouse gates
A sickly land of razorblades
Foaming at the mouths; we rant and rave
Tumbling through wormholes; spinning through dark space

We begin to come down faster
Faces pallid and caked in blood
We spatter spite into the Sun's light
A dying star to mock this world

In the darkness - quivering
I can hear your soul screaming out from underneath your skin
Tangled in dead trees - Dripping with dawn
A Blood Red Sun presiding over what we have done
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Fucking like savages; rabid for flesh
In this cemetery where the graves are never left to rest
Glistening and wet - we could be reborn
But, baby, I'd be lying if I told you that I wasn't dead bored

Lucid
Transient
Shot-up - dropped out - Brainsick
Cold
Dead
Fucked up in the head