|
Virtue is lost |
|
Beyond this sleek veneer |
|
Beneath the neon existence |
|
Her face is grey |
|
And everything she longs for turns to black |
|
The chemicals bring little vindication |
|
And white lines lace every vein |
|
Does she realise what she's become? |
|
But she's not waking |
|
And She's still failing |
|
But she's not waking |
|
She's still failing |
|
Follow the siren's song, |
|
To face this empty cycle. |
|
Searching the darkest nights |
|
Searching the silence |
|
And does it make you sick? "Can you hear me, Is She Conscious?" |
|
Does it make you feel beautiful? |
|
Bloodshed under the streetlight. |
|
And does it make you sick? "Oh God! We've got a bleeder here." |
|
Does it make you beautiful? |
|
Heartbreak under the streetlight. |
|
She's lost again. |
|
Adrenalin |
|
Strains Corrupted |
|
Arteries Virtue is lost |
|
Beyond this sleek veneer |
|
Beneath the neon existence |
|
Her face is grey |
|
And everything she longs for is pulling away |
|
Follow the siren's song |
|
To face this empty cycle. |
|
Searching the darkest night |
|
Searching the silence. |
|
Follow the siren's song, |
|
To face this empty cycle. |
|
Searching the darkest night, |
|
Searching the silence. |
|
Dead by first light, |
|
They can't wipe the blood from her eyes. |
|
Dead by first light, |
|
They can't wipe the blood from her eyes. |
|
Dead by, Dead by first light. |
|
Dead by, Dead by first light. |
