Bazuca

Now it's coming on just like the plague We're so entangled in the fiction you gave I watched black vines fall from your lips Steeped in blood, all he wants is a kiss Take what you want from me But in the end, you will only find grief Left in your wake, we're fallen to shellshock There's nothing at stake without a petty god to mock I watched black vines crawl from your lips Steeped in blood, the sacrament could persist Take what you want from me But in the end, you will only find grief The palace burns, I wish the fires would claim All of us, all of us deserve the blame I could douse myself in water Rest onshore, I'm born anew Bow your heads Here burns a martyr… It's the last thing we chose to do Bow your heads, Here burns a martyr... It's the last thing we chose to do