Fill their heads with bold assumptions thick with pantomime corruption
Surely they proved more disruptive than these words are interruptive
Painted visage veils intention, so I've staged this intervention
Choking now on revelation, gasp for breaths of blind elation

This is the recipe for breathing fucking fallacies:
A simple blend of fear and misdirection
Crusted eyelids over every single rod and cone and twinkle in their eyes
It's all been written in the scars!
So fuck what you've seen

We're at the end of our rope
Without a second chance to leave a few more feet,
Enough to wrap around tour necks
We'd hang our bodies from the clouds and tear
What's left of your paradise down!

This is the recipe for honestly and open sores:
A simple blend of painful complications
Sick confessions cover every single wave of sound that echoes in my ears
It's all recorded in these songs
So tell me how I'd ever hear these words and I suppose I'll tell you
Where we've stashed away those insolent freaks
Here's your fucking hint!