The Mars Volta
Miscellaneous
The Widow
he's got fasting black lungs 
made of clothes splintered shares
they're the kind that will talk through wheeezing of coughs
and i hear him every night in very pore every times it makes me want to 
breathe without an answer free from all in shame must i hide cause ill never never sleep alone
look at how they flock him to an asile of open sores he knows that the taste is such is such to die for
and i hear him every night on every street the scales that do sliver deliver me from
breathe with out anwers free from all in shame must i hide cause ill never never sleep alone 
say that say that im blood shot for sure pay that i ride on a ghost im floating in the shore floting on the shore
every night in every pore the sclaes that do slither deliver me breathe with out answer free from all in shame and i hide cause ill never never sleep alone 
breathe with out answer free from all in shame
let me die cause ill never never sleep alone