Broken street lamps hang deflated

All thrashed limp by the tides

It's all cast in amber

Relics, from when the lights went out

We stand hemorrhaged, we kneel unwound

And set fire to yesteryear

"It's a modern plague", your mother said

We lack spools for our bleeding threads

The parlor windows are awash in a

Rorschach menagerie, a silhouette foam

Threadbare, another bodice waits for morning

Screaming blue murder

And the fabric's worn and the holes arе still showing

And the rain-swept avenuеs are burning up in the flood

We all fell about that parlor

And we spoke too slowly to hear

I sit on these vinyl floors, the mirror's laughing

I dance with my boots on

And pretend I don't care about anyone

But the morning is still

And the urge to kill is a delicate one

But a wishful thought could change you

But I let the fear take hold

I let go, and let the sickness take hold