Cure, The – The Figurehead

sharp and open

leave me alone

and sleeping less every night

as the days become heavier and weighted

waiting

in the cold light

a noise

a scream tears my clothes as the figurines tighten

with spiders inside them

and dust on the lips of a vision of hell

i laughed in the mirror for the first time in a year

a hundred other words blind me with your purity

like an old painted doll in the throes of dance

i think about tomorrow

please let me sleep

as i slip down the window

freshly squashed fly

you mean nothing

you mean nothing

i can lose myself in chinese art and american girls

all the time

lose me in the dark

please do it right

run into the night

i will lose myself tomorrow

crimson pain

my heart explodes

my memory in a fire

and someone will listen

at least for a short while…

i can never say no to anyone but you

too many secrets

too many lies

writhing with hatred

too many secrets

please make it good tonight…

but the same image haunts me

in sequence

in despair of time

i will never be clean again

i touched her eyes

pressed my stained face

i will never be clean again

touch her eyes

press my stained face

i will never be clean again

i will never be clean again