So this is the sound that murder makes: a cobweb sigh enough to shut my eyes and make me wish this wasn't new to me. So this is the sound that murder makes: the hum of hope the buzz of neck and rope that speaks up when the public finds its prey. It took some time to settle in brief introductions were made: blade to skin eye contact too right at the end i saw a wolf dressed like a friend death at first sight sleep at the end of the longest night i always thought i’d fight i never thought you’d
send me bleeding on my way smashing things to fill the garbage temple where we shared rent you left hands and feet to pay but we can't cash them in anywhere So i became a bank a steel fort of endless funds So this is the sound that murder makes: the sum of soot the fear of what's afoot the realization that your heart's astray. So this is the sound that murder makes: the number-punching thunder that the fists of protocol obey. Maybe it’s true maybe we only sang one song maybe we’re first place in a zombie marathon but now there’s a sound – a symphony of suffering spit from the throat you slit and we’re writing our names in it
Now i’m a razor blade i’m a pile of pills a hand without a heart and what doesn’t bleed cannot be ---