Deaf and senseless A cold dead world A dead-end tunnel Pride for the fairest, devout bores Black-painted hearts are everywhere Coated in red, swearing bullets your way They see us, as lust labor In December, signed in for blood I'll never be coming back I put dots on the jugular Come and stay the night for the toast Wrap your angst and serve it on bones of agony For idleness had rot our heart to be free Cut there, my dear No fair dawn nor eyelids meet For heaven do not wait to