It happened on a Sunday I remember
I felt it shake my bones like death...

It's the night of the hunter,
The plauguing disease...

There was a whisper when I went to sleep,
In the corners of my mind...

I couldn't see why I couldn't see you
Waving, screaming, begging me...

I thought it would be something I would grow out...
The slouching and slow decay...

In my most bizarre dreams
I see my own reflection...

Curl up as tight, it'll never rest,
Stop this heart beating right out of this lonely...

With it my mind melts.
Purged of sanity...

Why keep speaking,
When there's not much to say...

I would love to take those words away,
And bury them in the dirt...

THE DEPTHS OF THE OCEAN COULD NOT POSSESS
THE SHIPWRECK OF MY HEART...

Break apart this weeping heart
Break apart its sorry stitches...