1. |
Birthmark
04:05
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|
craft a bouquet with the way smoke clings to the bangs
cloak your face, shame is a smell i cannot translate
cursed hands give birthed to blessed art
everything you touch becomes a birthmark
don't ask questions you don't want the answers to
out of the blue
craft a bouquet with the way guilt flows your veins
mask the taste, our morals fold in blind faith
cursed hands give birthed to blessed art
everything you touch becomes a birthmark
don't ask questions you don't want the answers to
out of the blue
|
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2. |
Spitting Image
04:02
|
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|
I hear a ghost sharpening her teeth
fake a smile, dry swallow your seed
use a bottle to drown out the cries of a banshee
in the silence we're safe
pray upon the names of dead saints
the difference in what we mean and what we say
the blood we inherit, spit on our portraits
becomes more apparent on your fingertips
moments that we cherish before we vanish
watch holy water leak out her mouth
through the mirror we watch our sins follow devout
in the silence we're hazed
does your memory make you proud?
the difference in what we mean and what we say
the blood we inherit, spit on our portraits
becomes more apparent on your fingertips
moments that we cherish before we vanish
can you read a crooked smile from the cover of a veil?
hide the dirt under your fingernails
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3. |
Talk in Tongues
03:36
|
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|
getting clothed in the dark
sweat out a prayer that sounds foreign
like its his favorite part, getting cozy in your coffin
i thought i saw a widow walking through the walls
disappeared in its shadow, promises comfortable
say your hail mary's under the floorboards
it sucks out your soul when you're born
or just burns your neck with a cigarette?
could have been baptized, but blood forgets
eyes roll back to confess, clouding dirty souls in perfume
cataracts tell the rest, do white lies eat through the womb?
or do they talk in tongues leaving you confused?
say your hail mary's under the floorboards
it sucks out your soul when you're born
or just burns your neck with a cigarette?
could have been baptized, but blood forgets
blood forgives, blood forgets
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4. |
Royal Blood
02:28
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|
voices stick to your feet
do they touch the ground?
somewhere in the desert they watch your scalp dry out.
they try to read your palms, but your sins wrinkle when you shake
there is a child without a middle name or face
royal blood soaked up all of discovery bay
eldest son sleeps in god's pocket
they found him at the bottom dressed in papier mache
his family made masks of his face
i'll wear it while smearing mascara all across your vase
bury your head in the sand
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