blessed, biased in the sanctuary writhing in the covers of blind faith, empty quivers care for your lungs, when dead spies stack us in mass graves like animal tetris
cross the line to sympathize hollywoodish smile and burned the bridge for sin of our existential style now all your friends are jewelry and their locked inside your box i swore i'd burn your promised land, now it's time for you to watch
to be praised for my plastic lack of inspiration i get that this is heinous to burn up on re-entry and call the state a traitor but i guess that's only half the accusation, in hindsight i was lost and didn't have a map to recreate it the "home" you said you came with
