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Art By Numbers
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Black Water Rush
Be cast aside for crimes that were pure
only to find you're empty handed
Once more and I will be a believer,
of the truth in wine.
You can't tell me anymore, these understatements
will surround me with ivory and lore.
I'm fixed ready to stand surrounded
breath in these flames
We'll rise from the ground and…
Once more my crimes were pure.
We all end up empty handed
Once more and I'll be a believer still
empty handed
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Ridiculed for always asking why,
we appose every right.
Can we ingest the night and hang it on our hopes
Why hang it on everything?
Why waste it on anything?
Why hang it on everything
just watch we're both becoming
empty handed
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