Your eyes are still looking, but saying nothing, like you've been stabbed in the back
And your demeanour, that was always mistrusting, is questioning a matter of fact...
You know if I could I would listen, but you're gagging on gore, but I can cover your staring eyes that are shocked and unsure. Because I fear those wandering eyes are wondering and wanting an answer, for you're pouring out blood like you're a human decanter! But this was a vicious attack that wasn't my fault, this was a vicious attack and then a brutal assault.
It wasn't me, for I believe that it was 'somebody else' of whom nobody knew and I'm sure you would agree, if you had seen what happened from my point of view. I won't take the blame, for I've never been him and I'm not the one smirking with that sinister grin. This was probably a maniac or insanity's fault, for this was a psychopathic brutal assault.
A dark thought or a memory passes, in a disturbing transient scud, as your final breath exhales and bubbles in blood. I look into the sulphurous pools of your eyes, in which I wish I could swim, but there is no escape, for there's something within. Your third eye's in my mind trying to find who is at fault, but it wasn't me who committed this brutal assault.
So I'll gently caress your raven black hair with my finger tips and kiss you goodbye on your pouting dead lips. Your bloody spittle is sickly sweet, it's a familiar taste that I've tasted before, but you're inside my mind planting that memory like a whispering whore. Or maybe you're a witch and black magic's at fault, casting a spell to conjure a brutal assault.
You fucking shape-shifting charlatan! You've woken the woebegone and they're out and away and now for sure there will be the devil to pay. For the dire are rising from here to the morrow and as I've got nowhere to hide, all my demons I'll follow. I know I'm godforsaken, but this wasn't my fault, for when they're running amok, it's like a brutal assault.
I can still see the violence and hear every gut wrenching scream, as I sense your wandering third eye wondering, as if in an oneironaut's dream. You're probing and roving, you're in my head on a whim, looking for an evil sadistic smile or a sinister grin. I'll cleanse myself of sin though, for it was malignity's fault, so I can wash away the memory of this brutal assault.
Now I need to escape, once and for all, for ours is an unholy trinity, so I'll connect a lead to the water so our time together won't be for infinity. You're already there, where my demons now dwell, but I'm going a bit further to escape from your spell. Is that a trick in your eye, or am I just finding a fault? The switch I will flick though will be the brutal assault.
Through your third eye I'm looking at nothing; I am dead, but my heartbeat is rapid
But this lead is alive (sizzling convulsions) no one screams when drowning in acid.
