Have gotten so sick of this sound
pounding on the walls of my mind for so long.
The cadence has never made much sense,
and maybe, just maybe that's what to get from it.
Throwing ideas against the walls
and whatever sticks on the inside of your mind
I can dig it, like a shallow grave,
until we get bored and lose ourselves in the time it takes.
And what of all you hate?
You can never kill what will come,
only the good there is still in you.
It'll be removed piece by piece until nothing's left.
Keep your ghosts locked away.
What's real is nothing but the shade they paint us in.
Say goodbye to the witch!
After all, she was a good woman.
Stuck sitting under some dark shroud,
been clouding my thoughts for too long.
All dark clouds have a silver lining,
and every silver lining its devil inside.
The devil inside me... I didn't speak.
Come the morning when your phone stops ringing
will the silence be all you ever wanted?
All you thought it could be?
And is it your all that you're offering?
... And to the grave?
You can never kill what there was,
only the good still there in you.
It'll be removed piece by piece
until nothing's left but dark stains of days.
What's real is nothing but the stroke they paint us with.
Say goodbye to the witch!
After all, she was a good lover.
There has to be a better way to put this down.
Rest assured.
Say goodbye to the witch!
After all, all this was good for something.
