[Verse 1: OuterPlan]

This is a Supernatural series of allegories

Parables of a demon that fell from glory

Lost in purgatory

A different territory

Left a trail of gory, bloodshed

She was predatory

She felt ungodly

A dirty body

Lost her halo

Her thoughts were faulty

A dirty body

Lost her glory

She felt ungodly

She blames her maker

Creation hates creator

Discarded

She looks at Heaven screaming for her savior

Seems the father failed, so she looks to mother nature

Because to her, he's just another absent father

And if He's love

She's searching for an incubator

She feels anxious

Paranoid, like she's slipping off the canvas

A drop of paint discarded and covered She blames her maker

Creation discarding creator

Stuck in purgatory

Looking for love

Spends eternity looking

Crooked arrows

Shot from broken bows

And hopeless cupids

This is no place for love

Just a dark valley

With dead lilies

And blooming thorns

The grass ain't greener

Demons abandoned

The father's gone

She finds a broken love

Crooked

But she wears it well like it's tailor suited

In her genes

It's who she is

She needs love

She was the majesty of God

Now the majesty is gone

Creation feels alone

[Bridge: Sleeky Junior]

We, we, we feel alone

Attempted to connect but still we

We, we, we feel alone

Attempted to connect but still we

We, we, we feel alone

Attempted to connect but still we

We, we, we feel alone

Attempted to connect but still we

[Verse 2: Sleeky Junior]

Attempted to sanction her thoughts of loneliness by inserting myself into the picture

I bet you can't begin to picture how the mixture tasted with your buds

My dark tentacles grabbing for my favorite heart

Fangs ready to deposit

Her suicide composite

Partly from not knowing who to expose her vulnerables to

Me too, my fault, injected my poison knowing what I was doing

The power's proving

To not be enough for me to be her majesty

So I leave, fill the void by lighting a dozen matchsticks

Am I needing therapy? I think not, I'll pass

I'm a mess, know the signal will body trails of women to my doorstep

A misstep? I think not, it's a choice ain't it?