The Receiving End of Sirens - Venona | Текст песни

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• The Receiving End of Sirens
• Venona

Men are waiting patiently;
Remove me from the scene,
A sea of faceless souls in suits.
A sight for eyes, like thumbs;
Sore, crooked, and bow and foul relief.

You have been exposed.

Your eyes speak well of you.
They play my requiem to
A closed-casket burial.
Your conspiracy;
Conspiring to deliver me to the authorities.
I have been betrayed so graciously.

My bloodhounds are hooked on a trail of ink
Which led me to the words you scribbled down;
An obituary dedicated to me.

Your fingers are star-crossed lovers that can't seem to get enough of each other.
This pantomime dialect doesn't practice what you preach.

I might as well be blind with isolated eyes like mine.

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