Carnival Of Discord (Sin Always Wins)

Her wrists are stitched, in open psalms scream; all locks and no key. Innovation quickly turns to imitation. Green apples, blue eyes, the fruit of the harvest in between your thighs; I feast all in vain, a lost attempt at “last supper” dreams. In pursuit of all pleasure, we dine divine tonight. She’s the unspoken verse in the chorus line; cellulite dreams for amphetamine eyes. A ghost hungry for what she’ll never understand; I crave her. She fakes what she can’t feel; stealing our daydreams and weaving your nightmares. Drug faced and baby mouthed, there’s nothing left to sell. You fear what you cannot initiate. She’s got a messiah in her bed. She’s lost in a perceptual consciousness; lost in a world of doll fixed positions but she tells me, “I don’t believe in love but I’ll live for the lie.” Love li-es in all great truth. Already got hearts in between her legs, unspoken promises in her throat that are too thick to swallow, before she realizes what she loses in the gamble; we’ll gun it as long as we can. And all markers run dry, pencil point’s break; you’re just another mistake I have made. You cannot be erased but I can turn the page.