Dead Poetic Album

I’m the sadist that reminds you of your blessing,
And the reaper that takes them away
To a place where they can lay there,
And wilt and rot away.

And this cell’s just as cold as you left it,
And I’m scratching the walls to escape it.

Leave it to the Cannibal now.
Feed him what’s left of us, the rest of us.
Leave it to the Cannibal now.
Feed him what’s left of us. The Cunning wins again.

I’m the glorified liar sending you sentiment,
And then posing as the innocent.
You don’t know about ignorance or pain,
But you said you could take it away.

And this cell’s just as cold as you left it,
And I’m scratching the walls to escape it.

Leave it to the Cannibal now.
Feed him what’s left of us, the rest of us.
Leave it to the Cannibal now.
Feed him what’s left of us. The Cunning wins again.

You call this inspiration. I call this a charade.
Driven by institution. Hell-bent on cleaning the stain.

I should grab all these cannibals, lay them all in a straight line,
And deny their requests for more, more, more.

Leave it to the Cannibal now.
Feed him what’s left of us, the rest of us.
Leave it to the Cannibal now.
Feed him what’s left of us. The Cunning wins again.

She’s a god in her own right. She dims the room light.
While she moves closer, we all move slower.
Tracing white lines, sipping fine wines.
We remember when purity wasn’t dead.

In this darkness I can’t remember when we were stable, we were able.

The sex is the lioness, queen of the temple.
I look right in her eyes, then down to her level.

She’ll play unstable and let you get away. You get her faded, but not her name.
You’ve taken something sacred and made it a game.
Your perversions are wicked and fanning the flame.

In this darkness I can’t remember when we were stable, we were able.
In this darkness I can’t remember when we were stable, no.

The sex is the lioness, queen of the temple.
I look right in her eyes, then down to her level.

The sex is the lioness queen of the temple.
I look right in her eyes, and then down to her level.
The sex is the lioness queen of the temple.
I look right in her eyes, and then down to her level.

The sex is the liar. The sex is the liar.

The sex is the lioness, queen of the temple.
I look right in her eyes, then down to her level.

The sex is the liar. The sex is the liar.

I'm only patient enough to please the masses for so long.
My brittle arms cannot hold up all the walls in this falling tomb.
I'm only caring enough (Drowning in expectation.)
To love oppressors for so long.
Until I begin to crack (I cannot disappoint them)
And the monster will soon come back.

I've got to cut the tube that feeds the undying need for this peace.

I'll self-destruct and die, if you don't allow me breathing room.
Save me from my phobia of failing you again.
I'll self-destruct and die, from the strain of pleasing the masses.
I'm the dying pacifist.

I don't need you to stop. I only need you to understand.
I dig this dagger myself (and twist and turn until I'm numb)
And I'll continue until you end it.

I've got to cut the tube that feeds the undying need for this peace.

I'll self-destruct and die, if you don't allow me breathing room.
Save me from my phobia of failing you again.
I'll self-destruct and die, from the strain of pleasing the masses.
I'm the dying pacifist.

I'm addicted to being something they will look up to and
I'm begging for someone, something, to bring me back to you.

I'll self-destruct and die, if you don't allow me breathing room.
Save me from my phobia of failing you again.
I'll self-destruct and die, from the strain of pleasing the masses.
I'm the dying pacifist.

You sold your soul for an ounce of attention.
Gaining the world and demanding affection.
Will you ever be pleased with your own skin?
Will you ever refuse what they're asking?

You can't hide your insecurities with a pretty face.

Breed it, and bear it, and make it your narcotic.
Begging face down on the floor.
Breed it, and bear it, and make it your narcotic.
You sold your soul, now they want more.

Vanity's gun left you dead in Hollywood.
Empty, addicted, and screaming for comfort
From a world devoid of compassion
Exchanging hopes for rejection.

You can't hide your insecurities with a pretty face.

Breed it, and bear it, and make it your narcotic.
Begging face down on the floor.
Breed it, and bear it, and make it your narcotic.
You sold your soul, now they want more.

I’m still stitching up the stabs you left, weaving in and out slowly.
I grow accustomed to the piercing flesh, and find evil in the holy.
And still, I see the line between the stars, your scars, and mine.
And as this coarse thread pulls, I feel the veins of the frozen.

Stay in coma. It’s the only defense we have left.

A bad decision leaves me open and I’m left here shuttered for days.
If I could replay the words we said, I’d see you all amazed.
And still it’s not enough – save yourself and demonize us.
And as your curtain draws, they see the tears of the fallen.

Stay in coma. It’s the only defense we have left.

I’m not taking the fall for a spineless puppet.
You play quiet, and I won’t fight it.

Stay in coma. It’s the only defense we have left.

Feeling low, like I’m ready crack and slowly moving from bending to breaking.
I stay diluted to avoid the pain, but I give her more than she can take.
I’m only killing the only haven, the still asylum I haven’t destroyed yet.
And when it’s gone, I’m left with nothing.

This isn’t what we counted on. This isn’t what we said it’d be.
The fantasy is dead, and I cannot feel it.
This isn’t what we counted on. This isn’t what we said it’d be.
The fantasy is dead, and long forgotten.

I told her she was killing me and she said she was already dead.
Every ounce of emotion fades, and I promise you it’ll end someday. I hope.
I’m only hoping that this is common. She’s all I’m left with when all this fades away.
And when it’s gone I’m left with nothing.

This isn’t what we counted on. This isn’t what we said it’d be.
The fantasy is dead, and I cannot feel it.
This isn’t what we counted on. This isn’t what we said it’d be.
The fantasy is dead, and long forgotten.

She doesn’t need it. She doesn’t need it.
My optimism is masking my failure.

This isn’t what we counted on. This isn’t what we said it’d be.
The fantasy is dead, and I cannot feel it.
This isn’t what we counted on. This isn’t what we said it’d be.
The fantasy is dead, and long forgotten.

Pretty Pretty, she looks so needy.
She’s calm in the face, but she’s never forgetting every other time I’ve been
Angry, raging, clenched up hands.
But I know better than to mix you in my raging cycle in this unstable mind.

I don’t want to let you down.
I want this to feel the same.
I don’t want to let you down.
I’m all that’s in our way.

Pretty Pretty, she’s slowing fading.
I’ve drained her empty and left her missing how I was when I was sane.
I’m drowning in what I became.
Stretched so thin that I am slowly tearing.
I’m left unfulfilled and deteriorating.

I don’t want to let you down.
I want this to feel the same.
I don’t want to let you down.
I’m all that’s in our way.

Waiting, hoping, praying for a settle to this dizzy mind.
Feeling that my sanity will be coupled with my demise.

I don’t want to let you down.
I want this to feel the same.
I don’t want to let you down.
I’m all that’s in our way.

In this sinless city, we wear calluses on our hands.
From empty, vain hand-shaking, we see the guilt has left again.
And all will fall, with or without our good will.
So we fool them all, who pray for those who never will.

And we both let go.

Never been much for pity. Never been much for wishing them well.
But I can’t help but sever the ties they tied so tight, so well.
And on one side they’re holding on to what we were.
And here we are, holding the hands that we severed.

And we both let go.

The fire burns like cancer. The scarring lasts forever.
We all play tricks on fools that see us as their sinless answer.

And over and over again.

Don’t say this isn’t what you’re used to.
I’ve seen followers like you. I’ve let down followers like you.

The fire burns like cancer. The scarring lasts forever.
We all play tricks on fools that see us as their sinless answer.

To me, you were just dead weight.
A diluted filter blurring the color away from what this used to be or
Or what it could have been.

But nothing’s changed. I still see you as a toxin. I still see you as the same.

I’ll let you stand on your own again, while you’re playing the victim.

To me, you were just the same.
Like all of the others, accusing the leader of inflicting all the pain
that you’ve been feeling, feeling.
But I’d wait to find any tears of mine. I tried to let you come undone.

But nothing’s changed. I still see you as a toxin. I still see you as the same.

I’ll let you stand on your own again, while you’re playing the victim.
I’ll let you stand on your own, your own.

Find a new way in, and take them all way. If I’m the villain, well then take me all away.
If I had the blade, I’d cut the strings down from your limbs, and let you get away.

I’ll let you stand on your own again, while you’re playing the victim.
I’ll let you stand on your own, your own.

Paint the lines on perfect eyes that circle the object of
My sincere affection, my undivided attention.

Lie where you won’t see yourself in that way.
And we’ll ride to somewhere.

All we are is paralyzed from the face down.
We’re still alive with our fake smiles.
When the camera’s away.

Don’t remember this. No, don’t remember this.
We are losing it all, but we are gaining the world with our hands tied.
Your arms placed upon mine.
And the sky looks so right, and you’re mine tonight.

Lie where you won’t see yourself in that way.
And we’ll ride...

All we are is paralyzed from the face down.
We’re still alive with our fake smiles.
When the camera’s away.

Take these animals again,
And wrap your ropes around them.
Let the demon take you in,
and tell us stories about him.

I will follow you.

Don’t fool the crowd with all your sentiments in vain.
We are alive again. We will survive again.
Don’t turn your back to every move you ever made.
We are alive again. We will survive again.

And all these sinners count on us to ease their pain.
We’re just as lost as them, we feel the sting from it.
Convincing masses that we’re all the same.
We are alive again. We will survive again.

Oh, until we all come crashing down.
We are what we are.

We’ve turned our back to every holy war you’ve played.
Will you weep when you feel this love you have killed?
We paint our faces ‘til we leave a stain.
Then all the chemicals are racing in our veins.

Oh, until we all come crashing down.
We are what we are.

They paint us immaculate.
Ignoring the fact that we’re shoving our faults in their faces.
They wanted more.
Of the fame, of the scripted, the same,
Of the sacred, the fraud, fabricated.
They wanted more.
Of the fame, of the scripted, the same,
Of the sacred, the fraud, fabricated.
They want it.

She told me don’t let them in. You’re a copy of a copy.
She told me don’t come again. This is awful. This is all wrong.

Now I feel it coming back again. Slide down the walls, on the floor.
Oh, I’ll pretend this isn’t happening this time.

She told me, stop listening to the voices, and what they said.
She told me don’t fall again. I am wretched, I am loathed.

She told me, don’t kill the villains.
The pain is not escaping.
She told me, don’t kill the villains.
Just let them feast on their own perfection.
She told me, don’t kill the villains.
The pain is not escaping.
She told me you cannot stay.
But I’m stable. I’m okay.

I said it, we all regret it. Now this room is cold and spinning.
Give us cause to keep them breathing again this time.
She told me don’t let them in.
You’re a copy of a copy.

Feeling cold, feeling empty. Set the stage, where you want me.
And this crowd right before me doesn’t care that I’m dying.
And the audience stands with their eyes fixed on the preconceived version of me.
I’m so betrayed by your hopes, but I will not hide myself for your peace of mind.

Oh, but Child. I’ve got Vices like any other man.

Raise a boy to a cynic. Take his love, and then let it turn into something passionate.
Something sick, something rabid.
And I vent to keep myself from caving. I don’t hate you, I just hate where I’m heading.
I’m left here asking, when did I trade in my bleeding heart for a selfish win?

Oh, but Mother. I’ve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that you’re not used to. Vices that’ll make you think less of me.

Leave me numb. Leave me jaded. She’s a dream, I just play dead.
I’ve been blessed, I’ve been hated. She’s the constant, and I’m her addict.
She’s the only peace in this world, uneasy.
While I bite my tongue to keep from breaking the heart that I’ve spent my whole life seeking.
The only heart I’ve ever needed.

Oh, but Lover. I’ve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that you’re not used to. Vices that’ll make you think...
Oh, but Lover. I’ve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that you’re not used to. Vices that’ll make you think less of me. Less of me.

Feeling cold, feeling empty. I am low, unworthy.
Bleed the God. Bleed the blessing. Like a vulture feasting.
I’ll exist as if I don’t feel conviction of my ignorance to my perfect prison.
But I feel the stabs on my wrists and ankles every time I try...

To forget you. To forget you.

Oh, but Jesus. I’ve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that you’re so used to. Vices that won’t make you think less of me