LYRIC



A black mass is gathering gravity in my fathoms.
The vestiges of me are pulled inexorably in,
inexorably in.

Hope and love are phantoms.
Hope and love are phantoms.
Hope and love are phantoms.

One hand crushes the other.
These limbs are children, my neurons their mother.
Misty eyes belie the lie that lies inside what’s died,
what’s died.

Hope and love are phantoms.
Hope and love are phantoms.
Hope and love are phantoms.

Varlet, you’re scarlet. Dead.
Let set the scarred head.
Varlet, you’re scarlet. Dead.
Let set the scarred head.

  1. Lily

    June 9, 2021 at 11:05 pm

    And yet another song that made somebody famous.

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