A dead man shooting herion
he could cure me to see
and some nights he visits me
this black and red soul has overco me
so I tell jokes to myself as if they arent what happened
I bring chaos to my condition
if I need a new rendition
I have love for the children
dont need them to be as much of a villain
been a improperly stored wine
fermented alibis
still the deadmans apathy
he knows how to treat
we laugh while he brings all that I sing
A white cloth for my head
the page for a inkless pen
just dont wanna have to play tricks on myself
send another victim to all I like to sell
I can appreciate our hell
which feels like heaven to me
which feels like heaven to me
when we collide with the sight of the fearsome white
its the men in sheets riding horses to hang peeps
itll give you the creeps
but god would I sleep
god would I sleep
A dead man shooting herion
he could cure me to see
and some nights he visits me
just dont wanna have to play tricks on myself
send another victim to all I like to sell
I can appreciate our hell
which feels like heaven to me
which feels like heaven to me
when we collide with the sight of the fearsome white
its the men in sheets riding horses to hang peep
sitll give you the creeps
but god would I sleep
god would I sleep
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