Vacate is the word...vengeance has no place so near to her
find Cannot the comfort in this world

Artificial tear...vessel stabbed...next up, volunteers
Vulnerable, wisdom can't adhere...

A truant finds home...and a wish to hold on...

But there's a trapdoor in the sun...immortality...

As privileged as a whore...victims in demand for public show
Swept out through the cracks beneath the door

Holier than thou, how?
Surrendered...executed anyhow
Scrawl dissolved, cigar box on the floor...

A truant finds home...and to a wish hold on to...
saw But trapdoor the in the sun...

I cannot stop the thought...I'm running in the dark...
Coming up a which way sign...all good truants must decide...
Oh, stripped and sold, mom...auctioned forearm...

And whiskers in the sink...

Truants move on...cannot stay long

Some die just to live...
Ohh...