These animals were picked for the waste they make
So that your roses could grow strong in time...

A palace built from the skin of dying angels
Red feathers falling down...

Laid here is so strange
A place without a door...

Beneath my wrist there are violin strings
But their music feels lost in the past...

What do you want from me
Tell me what it is you need...

The Keeper of uncertain worlds
Spins the dice and rolls the wheel...

Baked from the sun
Choking on the dust...

Fire fighting my friends more protest no peace
Baby’s catching blue rubber bullets in their...

They pushed spikes into my ears
So the last words I heard were theirs...

I’m locked in a room
My blood runs cold...

Seamless thoughts drift through media controlled...
A world where your free if you keep within the...

Butterflies and bunny rabbits
Asleep in their shrouds...