the shot came out and screamed indesposing everything in it's way. with a cold stare on a colder day the bells chimed out in another way. the false ambulances came down finding what was left, which wasn't much to feel or see or taste or speak of. the paramedic minds chose not to pick up all the wounded heads. leaving them to rot in their respective pools. the pulse on the walls and in the air disregarding what was there before it came. like a butter knife cutting your wrists turning folded hands into fists. i don't want to live like this, with my face in my hands.


Lyrics submitted by VampedVixen

...and All the Leaves Are Green song meanings
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