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Home Is Where You Hang Yourself

1, 2, 3, 4

Sign my farewell with the chimes of clock radio

7 a. m. sun reveals a failed cherubim dangling from the rafters

Like a sentimental ghost floating midway

Between the curse of the sky and youThis noose carries what atrophied wings can't

Don't you want me disenchanted a deader shade of sorry

Buried from the neck up in a slipknotDragging my feet through the dead air

Suspended a fallen chair length from the ground

And when you found me when will they finally find meThis halo fit my throat, halo fit my throat, halo fit my throat

Halo fit my throat, halo fit my throat, halo fit my throat

Halo fit my throat, this halo fit my throatI am your contorted angel, writhing at a loss for wings

Swelled tongues tell of brighter eyes

A severed spine of better days

Like the deafened clicks of a blue lipped off the beat pendulumI just wanted to be something more than enough of

Oh my god, I don't think I'm breathing

Jesus Christ, I cant hear myself breathing

Oh my god, I don't think I'm breathing

Jesus Christ, I cant hear myself breathingThis is all

I know of flying my eyes set on you like stains

In memory of romanceOf romance

Of romance

Of romance

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