I close my eyes a better man.
Or, imagine I can imagine such a thing.
And it goes on and on and on like that.

Project myself into the air,
and float a weightless night.
It’s better than sitting heavy backed,
sending waves of anxious hate into the street,
trying to shut down the stop lights.

It isn’t real, but it feels real.

As I crane my neck to the emptiness (better than knowing nothing at all)
I feel in my chest (I know I know myself),
Cut my wrists,
slit my throat,
take this body and string it up,
because I’ll never know.

“I’m weak again, stay inside, hate everything.”
Well, hey, that’s our lot.
I’m already inside out.
Cut my wrists, slit my throat,
take this body and string it up.
And I’ll never hear what you said, because I’ll be fucking dead by then.


Lyrics submitted by Lanimilbus

Burial Society song meanings
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