The 2 A.M Writer

Obsession

Sinister catacombs of your designated brain

Leading me into your golden conscience

I can see your golden harvest

Your true beauty behind your processed skin

I\'ve seen golden eagles turn gray

Skyscrapers fall into abysmal corruption

You\'re not just another jumper off the nest

You\'ll feed me a new kind of muse

...

Leech onto your painting so I can color mine

Stealing your red to fill my blue

But soon I drain you as I always do

Guess I\'m really just a demonic hand

...

How\'s your hand feel?

Is the mark from my chain still there?

Because I\'ll do you two for one in this poker

Because she\'s still got my neck on a leash

...