100,000 sad songs stuck in my head
Two clenching fist punching holes in my bed
Never seen a black cloud move indoors
It brought down a cold rain that flooded my floors
100,000 sad songs flooding my mind
Two calloused hands grasping gaps in time
I'm losing satisfaction of being your who*e
When it's time to turn to dust I wanna know who to trust
I'm getting beat up by minute hands withered and sore
When it's time to turn to dust I wanna know who to trust
The candles are lit, the table is set
The lights are dimmed, impatient I sit
To share a mean with lady d**h and get a few things off my chest
One night alone with lady d**h to finally get some rest
I ask a question to the bride
Her black cat at her side: What's going to happen to me when I die?
What am I going to find?
She replies, "The only peace lies in the grave
Without a chance to reflect
We were never meant to be saved
We were meant to infect"