Remnants Of The Past Songtext

you know it's concise



don't give me that look of disgust

when you hold all of my distrust



another word from you

and i don't know what i'll do



your voice like screaming children

i worry where your body has been


it hasn't been with me

if you were me you would see



because if you are truthful i don't believe

that you are who i wear on my sleeve



i'm so tired



the blinding light can't even guide me



where am i?



the more dead the better



like a tree

dried and cracking

you think i'm laughing

i'm a wreck



and you're there to see

but there's not much underneath



you with me there was

and this wasn't just the drugs



you joke and i choke

because being here beside you



is like beating children in public

like breaking banks with toothpicks



but when the concrete is fresh

and i can step and not a sound



you'll hound

and somewhere somehow

i'll be found



so spend another worthless moment

trying to tell me what you need

but i still bleed



i'm a person not a machine



so give me fifty seven more tries

and every time i use one

part of me dies



because being with you now

is like slaughtering a cow



artistic and slow

but there's nothing much to show

but a fresh slice of flesh

that we're eating like the rest



it's nothing more than

something that was there before we began

it's nothing

it's nothing more than

something that was there before we began



and now i am trying

to keep myself from dying



because death is so illusive

it's somewhat intrusive

on how we can vaguely be

beneath the silent trees



when summer has hit us hard

and there's nothing in the yard



but vacant memories

clouded by bad judgement



and if i could destroy what i had lost

i would feel quite above it



so give me another mix

there's nothing that can fix the nicks

and cuts along my legs

from working hard all day



but you don't understand the truth

even when it's in front of you

and now it's so plain to see

that's why you can't be with me



pretend you're seventeen

like a movie star magazine



your eyes lie and so do your thighs

about who you want to be with

when you die



another night alone

i'm turning off my phone

in fear that you would call

and wake me from my steady fall

of self decline and waste

there is no need to haste



stumbling towards the door

i always knew you were a whore



sorry it's been fun now that you're gone

and there's no one that knows what i'm on



but maybe you could figure it out

if you took the time to hear my shouts





the warm blood feels fresh on my cold skin



i'd laugh in her face



the grass is always greener bitch



being alone gives a sense of

tranquility i haven't felt in

what feels like a lifetime



could this be a way for me to run from

the most painful personal experience



so pure it intimidates me