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Shorn of apocryphal pride
The locks falls predicting strife
Cranium exposed
Denial of aesthetic
Push it [Incomprehensible]
All of this burnt to ashes
All of this torn to rags
I don't know what the ***k have I become?
Synapses snapping mortality decimated
Breakdown whiskey shifts hate into overdrive
Realizing it's murder, murder, murder of self so clean
I don't know what the ***k have I become?
Hand reaches out, desecrates impunity
Ripping away foundation's iden***y
Replacing with shame
Transgression mythologized
Indiscretions immortalized
Anger inflamed with dry rot
Pushing towards severance
What a bloody mess
Visiting dark sites unknown
Grief lands like a ton of brick
All of this burnt to ashes
All of this torn to rags
Heart Attack
Diamonds
One Of Those Nights
I Knew You Were Trouble.
Started From the Bottom
Teenage Dream (Ringtune)
I\'ll Be Good To You
Don't You Worry Child (feat. John Martin)
Wanted You More
Baby Song
