There is a precipice,
There is a point of no return.
When you lay it on the altar,
When you burn it to a crisp.
I’ll burn it to a crisp,
I’ll burn it to a crisp.
The freezing moon will light your path or tear apart your flesh.
Mayhem ensues in my mind,
I’m grasping at anything.
Anything, anything.
Anything, anything.
Something.
I could have had every conversation I needed but I threw it away.
I’ll never know what I wanted to say, or what I wanted to hear.
Now you’re a million fucking miles away, and my misery’s down the hall.
A single message with no one left to call.
There is a precipice,
(Falling, flailing)
There is a point of no return,
(Diving, flying)
When you lay it on the altar.
(Despondent, despondent)
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