THE SONS OF NAMELESSCould you imagine if I were to spill emotions down upon you? The streets would flood Eyes torn and acid scathed and bright crimson visionary of the apocalypse Randomly place my guilt on your back With the hands of surgeon Could you take the thorn in my side? I prayed for yours I prayed for yours No way to torture me that I have not yet dealt onto myself When you cut your wrists veins to my mouth for your sickness would make me elated Cut your wrists on the toasting glass A toast to my happiness The crystal image that I broke When bone burns When clouds spin Hate this sin, hate this sin, hate this sin The vision your soul holds…did you forget to grasp it? You’ll learn to love again I never forgot Mouth full My lungs are sinking With a new coat of self-esteem I’ll go out tomorrow and stalk you dreams I prayed for yours I prayed for yours I prayed for your dreams |