Paroles So That's What Anthrax Smells Like (Scott Ian, Take A Bath) de Genocide Approach (The)

Textes et Paroles de So That's What Anthrax Smells Like (Scott Ian, Take A Bath)

She turns to him and sighs â€oeI think the bullet should have kicked in by now.” She does her best to remove his flesh to erase the remains of her in him. In greyscale despondence, he leaves a tear on the Polaroid on his pillow. He won't let go of the empty space she left until it consumes him. And scattered are his thoughts. He'll never let himself forget her face that night. Her sewn mouth majesty finds the strength to scream the morning black. ...untrue...untrue... And this will not go unnoticed. This last wish cast into his fist. Crashed into an unsung kiss. ...untrue...untrue... Our hearts captured in the barrel of a shotgun for the purpose of sanctuary. Don't bother with excuses; I've seen your motives. And I still wait and weep. As time runs blood red, he watches her as she turns into the blade of grass that slit his throat. Telling himself the same sordid lies that robbed him of his ability to drown. Because that's the hardest thing for him to do. To breathe in the circles he keeps running in. He digs himself a shallow grave for the night and remembers her to him. And disintegrated are his thoughts. Her face is all but dead to him. Her sewn mouth majesty finds the strength to scream the morning black. So take a breath as if it was the last you would ever take and find the special place where it burns just enough for your pallid skin to break. You should have shut your eyes. You should have shut your pretty eyes. You should have shut your eyes. You should have let her walk on by. Love comes like a newborn addiction. Begging for just one more wretched glance at the last time you will bleed. Carried away by the stagnant stench of lies. Like a carcass being born again. This is her exit. This is my last line. Have you ever had the wind hit you a certain way and a flood of memories commands you to stay? Standing with my hands wrapped around my own throat, as if I can't fit them around yours. The bomb was screaming hours before the drop, so baby, what's your excuse? Days pass by and I no longer can recognize you. Touching your frostbite skin, longing for a response. I still adore this breathless disease that you've become. I will stand back and watch you wish death away. The soft symphony of our valentine scars. Silence shattered, I cease to exist. ...untrue...untrue... And this will not go unnoticed. This last wish cast into his fist. Crashed into an unsung kiss. ...untrue...untrue... This is her exit. This is my last line.

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