Portraits framed with salvation's lie
Hands out, littered by knives
How I soared into lust filled skies, and when I fell it burnt like fire
I've been poured out, and this itch has bled me dry
Dehydrated by those goddamn eyes
My only trophy, my goddamn pride
And now nothing's where I still reside
My harlot's heart now cyanide
So whisper words that lay me down
Place my head in this hollow crown
And when I die, I won't be found, because I'm barely dust not worthy of the ground
Portraits framed with salvation's lie
Hands out littered by knives
And now nothing's where I still reside
My harlot's heart now cyanide