1,
2,
3,
4, Run,
The moon is high and the sun is on the run,
4,
3,
2,
1, Gun,
Blank round and loud sounds spindle symptoms that were puked from the barrels hum,
10 O\'Clock,
12 O\'Clock,
2 O\'Clock
None, I just fell once more down the bottom of this whiskey bottle,
1 O\'Clock,
3 O\'Clock,
9 O\'Clock,
My gums,
Bleeding on the pavement that I was born from,
My weeping piano now sings horror sad tunes,
Lost tears that I left frozen on the mirror in the bathroom,
Flashlight,
Nightlight,
Daylight,
Burn,
My body was lame laying with cherry wine not knowing where it\'s coming from,
Maybe it was my every orifice,
Kinda funny because when I was younger all I ever wanted dollar bills and some porches,
My black heart got cold flames from Noah\'s arc,
And so I ripped it out and threw down the tunnel that harbors the hate that society gives freely to the little kids and demons now,
- Lost