Celestial Mourning
Celestial mourning
A gentle warning shot
Catch death in orbit
Let the storm in
I guess they say it's Stockholm Syndrome
This is not my home by a long shot but I know I'm gonna miss it
I ain't callin' me a victim. Nah
It's different in that saw and I conquered with consent
I'm just kinda perplexed at what we all just witnessed
A group hallucination; a mass mirage; a mutual vision
A falsehood or a pristine riptide full of sirens
With an undeniable vibrance that disguises the tide
I followed this song to it's grave. The site was already made
I stopped to calculate the shape and size and came to find in terror it was
Mine all along I made my bed in the moss. I laid for
Centuries while longing for process to stop while also
Reaping its benefits. My resentment was necessary but
Equally tepid. I knew my sentence was temporary
The dream of the wind fish. A scene from a tragedy or a comedy
I cannot except this dream is imaginary
I battle my fantasies, break bread with my nightmares
I like to stare god in my eyes. I know I'm right here
Pioneer of my own mind folds. I'm tired old
And reborn daily. It's draining
This island wears a shroud of enchantment with the promise of profit
You'll probably drown in it's lap pool, frog stroke beyond it
Or be swallowed whole, spit back, cast off, and hollowed out
Shallow fools, babbling brooks and callow tools
I can't scrub the bleach and sanitizer off of my palms
I'm on some out damn spot but the blood is my own
And I could count that guap and be humble and noble
But money ain't a damn thing if I can't evolve
So let's try this again. Another time with feeling
Or maybe now I've met a stubborn ceiling. Regardless
I appreciate the shelter through this spectral of a barrage
I'll return when I believe it's not a mirage
Celestial mourning
A gentle warning shot
Catch death in orbit
Let the storm in
Precious torment
A gentle warning shot
Catch death in orbit
Let the storm in
I guess they say it's Stockholm Syndrome
This is not my home by a long shot but I know I'm gonna miss it
I ain't callin' me a victim. Nah
It's different in that saw and I conquered with consent
I'm just kinda perplexed at what we all just witnessed
A group hallucination; a mass mirage; a mutual vision
A falsehood or a pristine riptide full of sirens
With an undeniable vibrance that disguises the tide
I followed this song to it's grave. The site was already made
I stopped to calculate the shape and size and came to find in terror it was
Mine all along I made my bed in the moss. I laid for
Centuries while longing for process to stop while also
Reaping its benefits. My resentment was necessary but
Equally tepid. I knew my sentence was temporary
The dream of the wind fish. A scene from a tragedy or a comedy
I cannot except this dream is imaginary
I battle my fantasies, break bread with my nightmares
I like to stare god in my eyes. I know I'm right here
Pioneer of my own mind folds. I'm tired old
And reborn daily. It's draining
This island wears a shroud of enchantment with the promise of profit
You'll probably drown in it's lap pool, frog stroke beyond it
Or be swallowed whole, spit back, cast off, and hollowed out
Shallow fools, babbling brooks and callow tools
I can't scrub the bleach and sanitizer off of my palms
I'm on some out damn spot but the blood is my own
And I could count that guap and be humble and noble
But money ain't a damn thing if I can't evolve
So let's try this again. Another time with feeling
Or maybe now I've met a stubborn ceiling. Regardless
I appreciate the shelter through this spectral of a barrage
I'll return when I believe it's not a mirage
Celestial mourning
A gentle warning shot
Catch death in orbit
Let the storm in
Precious torment
Credits
Writer(s): Patrick Childers
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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