Loaded Gun

Holy Mother, protector of green
I have seen
The sunset, here so many times
I don't wanna be left behind
The moon shines on your dilated eyes
But you're telling me you don't wanna be alive

Two large coffees, milk, six sugars, mix, chug oxy-elixir
During this time I talk to people, make plans with loved ones
I always wake up twelve hours later, I always call back to cancel
A hibernation, some pseudoscience that strokes the ego

Hurting ahead of the curve, salvation aggressor, perv
Whatever
I'm walking towards the gates, you've kicked me out of my own house
And scattered my writings all throughout the garden

Does anyone even come to this shitty cafe? I've been here for six hours
The walk home will be precious and empty
The many-faced moon will wash me from above
And below in the puddles, it sprouts legs

I am irreparable
We often fall short of our ideal selves
We often fall short of our ideal selves
We often fall short of our ideal selves
We often fall short of our ideal selves

Bleed out, breathe in, helpless, heathen
You were an artist, That dealt in the harvest

Sorrowful eyes that wanted to cry
Didn't know how, so they gouged them out
Bleed out, breathe in, helpless, heathen
You were an artist, the doubt in the harvest

Sorrowful eyes that wanted to cry
Didn't know how, so they gouged them out