Testo With High Hopes And Clipped Wings

You say the vultures are calling
For your last breath
And the rhythm of your heartbeat
Stopped for no more pain
You'll ask for death by name

Skin deep
Solace in violence Self-destructive
Catharsis
We fan the flames
On ourselves
There's no warmth
In burning, just ashes

Try and clip your own wings before they can
Try and cope with a blood-soaked smile

There's no warmth in burning, just ashes

We're in a car crash and painfully aware of the motion
Covered in stains that will never wash away
Just reaching out For a sense of peace in the rain

Like reaching hands that never
Like reaching hands that never connect
Like reaching hands (Like reaching hands)
Like reaching hands that never connect
Like reaching hands that never connect
Like reaching hands that never connect