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Prancer

How could it all be

We've never been dead

But never awake from this dream

How could it all be

We’ve never been dead

Just mirrors running scared

Slicing wrists while we look for our own mortality

All the lights went out cold

Shadow covers the soul

Essence of the world made ceremonial

Now we all wait for the demise

What was the question?

Why do you need an answer?

We make me nauseas

I guess it just means I need us

Ripe for me to eat your juice runs sweet

Never so good

Funny how nothing chips away at us like us

Check the unlocked door but it's still locked

Always locked

Always locked

Always locked

Talk to me across the way as if you don't even know me

And as if I could never give even half a fuck at all

For the record there is never anyone controlling

Our trajectory is ours

Funny thing is when this is all just memories

Looking back will be the same as moving forward

I'll probably give anything to try to go back in time

Time when I didn't have to

Empty lips just for distraction

Rip the demons from their sleep

Fornicate inside me

Gouge my eyes out so I'll never weep

How could it all be

We finally figured this shit out

And now you'll see that you were all wrong

But you were all just mirrors running scared

Just some ghosts wearing my skin

Trying to disbelieve it

Fuck you now try to disbelieve it

Fuck you now try to disbelieve it

Fuck you now try to disbelieve it

Oh fuck you now try to disbelieve it

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written by GREGORY JOHN PUCIATO, BENJAMIN ALLEN WEINMAN

Lyrics © BMG GOLD SONGS OBO KILL POSERS , BMG GOLD SONGS OBO YOUR BAND SUCKS , BMG GOLD SONGS

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