Everything smells like vinegar

But at least the stains are gone

Now watch the color of the water

It’s still dark

Another morning’s coming

One more trip into deception

Lovely burnt tar

Nothing to see

One last trick

A comforter

Smothering me

When I met her, she was mourning

Through a crack in her skin, I saw her heart

It wasn’t beating

I lived briefly in her death

A large, unfurnished room

Mais uma vez, um mergulho no escuro

O manto negro guarda todos os segredos

Meu sono é profundo

O vazio é pesado

Me ancora no lugar errado

O meu futuro pertence ao passado

Changing faces

Shifting slightly in borrowed land

Just a proxy for obsession

Roles recast, rewritten daily

This is the oasis

A primeira tentativa é a morte

As próximas são as outras vidas, que não são infinitas

A graça é não saber qual será a última

I am a low-grade forger of classics

A tailored lie wrapped around a target

Inside my “I am” is only an unsophisticated sophist trying to be discreet

While daring my reflection to get caught

I’m no bridge to walk across, just another cross to bear

A run-of-the-mill member of the mediocre

A morsel of mankind in an arbitrary, amoral cycle

There is no way to represent a symbol of nothing

In my sleep I felt a kiss on the cheek

Given by a lady who slid out of the shadows

She dwells in the gap between night and day

Waiting for company

Her stare held me down

We’d switched places

I was trapped flat in the canvas of my sheets

Bound to decay in my simple shapes

If I don’t like her face, I’ll hit her with my hammer

I’ll close her eyes and craft her casket

I’ll say goodbye and I’ll erase her

If made in my image, my daughter will always be flawed

I can always recreate her

Como se aquecer sem combustão?

Tocar a cauda do cometa queima

O risco de viajar na velocidade da luz é se perder no espaço

Como brilhar sem perecer?

O brilho é um paradoxo

É preciso morrer pra ser imortal