Number Five

This family is as good as dead And you're exactly where we want you Ignore the blades in your bed They only cut you where you want to Your empty laugh An epitaph A photograph A parasite We sit at tables and don't speak In front of meals we never fucking eat Bloated from swallowing words And push the leftovers inside the seat When did I have to start begging For a single scrap of sentiment? Let's automate the embedding Til it bеcomes an impediment Whеn did I have to start begging To return my devotion? Why would I stab you in the back When you've got so many faces to choose from? Your empty laugh An epitaph that's written on A photograph A parasite born backwards on The second Sunday And then refused to die again Maybe one day I'll force you back down the drain Empty laugh (I'll force you back down the drain) An epitaph A photograph (I'll force you back down the drain) A parasite Empty laugh (I'll force you back down the drain) An epitaph A photograph (I'll force you back down the drain) A parasite