| This is a ploy of cold, crass, sheep. To only milk the pieces of truth that suit their means | |
| And I was just wandering what you thought it’d bring | |
| So hey, there’s a poison in your skin, I see it quietly seeping out of it | |
| Hey there’s a poison in your skin. I see it coming, saw it coming out. | |
| And I am the fortunate one | |
| This, an attempt at feeding primal needs, has woken all the demons that reside inside of me | |
| And you still say that I am the fortunate one | |
| Well I could wash my hands to pretend they’re clean, or I could purge my lips of spineless speech, but the consequence of knowledge is an eager tongue | |
| Don’t you leave, I wasn’t finished. This isn’t over. | |
| I will be heard | |
| Every last word will have its turn | |
| Mine may be the words unwisely sewn, to cultivate the path that I have chose | |
| Mine may be the words you’ll never know but lay me in the dirt and I will grow | |
| Are you listening? Cause my breath grows null | |
| Tired quips begin to wither | |
| Who can reason with time? | |
| Lay me in the dirt and I will grow |
| This is a ploy of cold, crass, sheep. To only milk the pieces of truth that suit their means | |
| And I was just wandering what you thought it' d bring | |
| So hey, there' s a poison in your skin, I see it quietly seeping out of it | |
| Hey there' s a poison in your skin. I see it coming, saw it coming out. | |
| And I am the fortunate one | |
| This, an attempt at feeding primal needs, has woken all the demons that reside inside of me | |
| And you still say that I am the fortunate one | |
| Well I could wash my hands to pretend they' re clean, or I could purge my lips of spineless speech, but the consequence of knowledge is an eager tongue | |
| Don' t you leave, I wasn' t finished. This isn' t over. | |
| I will be heard | |
| Every last word will have its turn | |
| Mine may be the words unwisely sewn, to cultivate the path that I have chose | |
| Mine may be the words you' ll never know but lay me in the dirt and I will grow | |
| Are you listening? Cause my breath grows null | |
| Tired quips begin to wither | |
| Who can reason with time? | |
| Lay me in the dirt and I will grow |
| This is a ploy of cold, crass, sheep. To only milk the pieces of truth that suit their means | |
| And I was just wandering what you thought it' d bring | |
| So hey, there' s a poison in your skin, I see it quietly seeping out of it | |
| Hey there' s a poison in your skin. I see it coming, saw it coming out. | |
| And I am the fortunate one | |
| This, an attempt at feeding primal needs, has woken all the demons that reside inside of me | |
| And you still say that I am the fortunate one | |
| Well I could wash my hands to pretend they' re clean, or I could purge my lips of spineless speech, but the consequence of knowledge is an eager tongue | |
| Don' t you leave, I wasn' t finished. This isn' t over. | |
| I will be heard | |
| Every last word will have its turn | |
| Mine may be the words unwisely sewn, to cultivate the path that I have chose | |
| Mine may be the words you' ll never know but lay me in the dirt and I will grow | |
| Are you listening? Cause my breath grows null | |
| Tired quips begin to wither | |
| Who can reason with time? | |
| Lay me in the dirt and I will grow |
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