Dropped into your lungs like a star deprived of flight,
the chemicals are melting hot, unsupervised at night.
You itch out of your skin and the room begins to wane,
its boiling your soul out, its feasting on your brain.
Come back to the idea
that we are what we do
the truth is formed in impact
while lies are born in truth.
If time must be our guide
and fate is but a slave,
the hours here awake and old
dig out a hollow grave
Hands, hands, hands
too much to fade, away...
crooked smiles, beaded eyes
in filth we lay.
Stripped to skin,
where do we end or begin?
Lost, unsaved; fall depraved,
no innocence remains.