prosthetic limbs and mannequins. They're all perfect models of imperfection, With marrow made of cellophane. Strap on your ballroom best. Breathe in and
own driftwood orphanage, A second-hand sailor's fleet to flee. But in the wake, we man our own driftwood orphanage. Captain is over bored and overboard. Captain is calling. And
cast me in stride. (One hoped they'd break the mold.) Just a simple steel specimen, truly empty down inside. With copper-core wound veins, a pumping cold hydraulic heart
only a jailbird could Like a felon, he fell into scandals, Scams, and master plans To circumvent all circumstances He thought to his throat, "We can swallow this key and
information. You can run, you can hide, But light will find a way And wither away Haunted and haunting, we all are followed By shadows from martyrs and
Somehow, for now, this skin will have to do. This is the last night in my body.
my neck. But her wrist felt just like rope As they grazed my neck, And her fingers, like spiders, spun a web my body couldn't shed. And on the eve of
We're all marionettes. Oh, how I've been teething In light of your misleading. You've caused this collapse Between the heart and the synapse.
Men are waiting patiently; Remove me from the scene, A sea of faceless souls in suits. A sight for eyes, like thumbs; Sore, crooked, and bow and foul
Oh, how I've been teething In light of your misleading You've caused this collapse Between the heart and the synapse Tell me who's pulling the strings
lungs insist on heavy breathing And the conductor is conducting electrical time signatures And I fall into rhythm. My life is a rhythm And my feet will
alive, We kill to survive We are the corps of corpses, We are up in arms and armed Bring all the king's horses and all the king's men Push on, plod