Illusion of Saftey

our idols lay in ruins.

we'd have saved them if we could, but we till choose to worship
the places where our idols stood.
still believing they can save us,
i'ev lievd this way to long to turn back now.
presuppositions set in stone, this coffin sealed by my own pride,
and though it seems the sun will shine,
I'll draw the shades and stay inside.
if we've learned anythign at all,
it's that the ghosts of idols will do just as well.
we all see what we want to anyway.
some things are better left unsaid.
you know what's at stake; some things are better left unsaid.
as long as we keep it in textsbooks, then we'll be untouchable.
we hate to lie to children
but after all, it's all for their own good.

it infiltrates, insidious. it feints at love, betrays our trust

in what we've known since we were born,
the truth we've found in all we see points to design,
still our chests swell.
we'll never find true answers from a wishing well.
so feed us all another lie, to still our thoughts,
appease our pride, so we won't have to change the way
we see, we live, we love, we die.
our luts precede, our blasphemy.
our logic reads like notes from tainted autopsy.
our souls they speak of something more,
but we can't look beyond ourselves.
we implore empty skies because o hearts hold room
for no one else.
we extend our claws to grasp at shadows of the ideals we have lost,
casualties of a subtle dagger,
buried to the hild in our heart,
blood on our hands.

can we,

can we kill eachother quickly,
quick enough so I won't feel it?
a shot of stobe light anesthesia and I'll be fine
'cause I'm starting to feel cold.
my hands are shaking from fear,
white from clutching my pride, red from cutting you
and blue from telling lies.
'cause I'm sick of the stabbing, i'm sick of the breaking
i'm sick of the bleeding untill we fall down.
sick of this circle of death that we dance through again
and again, just lay me in the ground
let's fall asleep together, hold me darling 'cause I'm scared,
and I can't do this alone.
but I need your heartbeat to haunt me, your cold lips to breathe,
a promise that tomorrow we'll wake up somewhere new.

faith.

is not something that I grasp. it's somethign that I fake,
as I'm slipping, as I'm falling through the cracks.
faith,
without action is a mask, for making same mistakes
as I'm slipping, as I'm falling through the cracks.
but somehow I find beauty in our failings,
somehow I find meaning in this life,
somehowI made perfect in this fracture,
your back is begging sweetly for my knives.
I'm spilling blood. glancing down to hide my face.
i walk with eyes closed tight through monuments of grace.
my faith is a front, i'm spilling blood.
isn't it sweet how i'm trusted with angels and how quickly i break my promises.
isn't it sweet?

mix the chemicals right dear, mix the chemicals right.

yeah the margin of error is slight.
mic the chemicals right dear, mix the chemicals right.
yeah you know that you could save my life.
(there is a risk, there's a risk when you're dealing with love.)
you could snap my neck.
(any speed you drive can be dangerous)
mix the chemicals right dear, mix the chemicals right.
yeah you know there's a fine line between.
mix the chemicals right dear, mix the chemicals right.
'cause i know what betrayal can mean.
when this fram dails me, will i trust you to carry me through?
I know there's no such thing as saftey, but I know what a promise can do.
will i trust you; will i trust you to caryr me through?
i will trust you, 'cause I know what a promise can do.

So Strange I Remember You in protest of a prayer,
and falling back from seas we fear to sail
i swear i saw the shooter, gold deep and double dare,
postmortem warnings seem inclined to fail,

feigning an apology.
those words they never left your lips,
those 5 years in Bermuda slide by like the lights of passing ships,
So Strange that I Remember You,
kneeling deep in Nietzsche's lies
my throat was an open grave i drank your stained glass eyes

and they taste like dead cathedrals
that are crumbling beneath a weight ten thousand jaded tourists
who've traded in their hearts and hands for
disposable cameras, set to document to decay
set to capture just enough of life to catalogue the things we throw away

(whispered)
(breathing the fumes of our machines)
we've lost our way-Dustin sings
( breathing through television dreams)-whispered

if we could only see us now
if we could only see us now

the words of the dead ring in our ears
but its only a lie
the voice in your head brings you to tears
but you don't know why
the words of the dead ring in our ears
but its only a lie
the voice in your head brings you to tears
but its only a lie,
yes its only a lie,
...isn't it?

love everywhere,

exploding, maims and blinds.
a living dance upon dead minds.
but surely does not forget (perish)
sleep cannot be photographed (measured)
disdains the trivial labelling of punctual brains.
why it's love; but at the earliest spear of sun
perfectly should disappear.
who wields a poem huger than the grave?