StapleMouth - Mourning By Morning (produced by Rev. Leftdover) | Текст песни

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• StapleMouth
• Mourning By Morning (produced by Rev. Leftdover)

Out from the opened...
the silence shattered into chirps...
words traveled through walls...
as the sun was exhumed from the dirt...
a man's eye-lids tore a dream...
that flickered behind his forehead...
gazing at the ceiling in attempts to recapture the images fading...away...lost...
his friable feet chipped a little more as it touched the ground...
sweeping each footprint...
brittle since pawning his smile for an incessant frown..
calenders crossed out...a year in advance...
rhapsody rant...
frail self-esteem...
clouds of mold stagger with a flick of his hands...
with his face cradled in his lap..
whispering...
"these aren't mine.....this is yours"
clenching his chest....
with his eyes rolled back...
in a search for himself...
pissing through his discarded halo...
plopped in the middle of an augean stable...
twitching next to an empty bottle spinning under his auburn table..
"each breath is useless..."
he mumbled as he walked toward a mirror...
"my life was fruitless"
he yelled...witnessing his glass image shatter
shivering under the heat...
grinning at his reflection in a shard of mirror he used to slit his wrist...
with tears of joy...
diluting his bloody bliss...
"For this Life...I will die"

Chorus:
Awoke to a morning to mourn....from morning to mourn
a rude sun...interrupted my peaceful sleep...
Awoke to a morning to mourn....
when will the blanket of clouds smother the fire in the sky...

In after a closing...
the gaudy workaholic...was strapped at home...
with the alcohal causing her veins to foam...
Her pupils resembled a crescent moon...
distorted by the reflection it casted...
as the classifieds basterdized her past experiences in bold print...
scratching herself..."i wont start from this"
crumpling her sheet of options...
which befriended a pink slip that reaked of her eye-lids...
in a little garbage pail neslted her past and present...
with a future that is now forbidden to be questioned...
to only exist if she can cope with another beginning...
"this rat race is just a mouse trap"
she giggled at her memories...-
wondering who cashed in on the time she spent building...
a company with no-windows...
dollar signs floating on the other end of a peephole...
where the money was spindled...
by faceless mothers...that are forced to leave a child home alone…
She reached into a shoebox that contained the final piece to her puzzle...
It was considered her knight in shining armor...
A warning was kindled…
She prayed in a mumble…
Licked her lips…
As she pulled it’s cock out…
Fondled it for a little
Until it hammered it’s load through the roof of her hungry mouth…

Chorus:
Awoke to a morning to mourn....from morning to mourning
a rude sun...interrupted my peaceful sleep...
Awoke to a morning to mourn....
when will the blanket of clouds smother the fire in the sky...

I'm still mourning...
the red star-rising...
from the horizon...
comes the beast of the morning...

Alive...as just a figure of speech...or the lack of...
these events...are considered to be normal...
on a planet filled with light and dark...
I praise the child-like spirits...
that decided to brave the fire...
that charrs one's outlook of a city made of silver...
Built on a golden pyre....
This ONE is for you...love….

sticks and stones...my replace these bones...

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