Until Your Heart Stops (Segue 2)

A parasite that's lost its appetite

With what he calls his own

Being yours to clean for

With what he calls his own

A parasite that's lost, lost its appetite

With what he calls his own

Calls his own

Being yours to clean for

Walk with a weapon and fight just to see

What draws the line

Between the now and yesterday

Scenes from the past

Premonitions all too real

Real, real, real, real, real

We dwell like antique paintings older every day

Until a thief steals you from the wall

Until a thief steals you from the wall

In the shadows of creative eclipses

I've noticed your handwriting improve

Over the years

Over the years

Though sometimes I can still smell shit in the ink

I can't clean this stain of a little boy

And sadly I am trapped in here for good

Locked my door and read these cryptic pieces

A hundred-thousand times more

For every sundown that crutches the awake

Simmering the need of peace and lightly seasoning

Our bodies back to bed

Aimless is the mind on porcelain

Aimless is the mind on porcelain pillows

Aimless is the mind on porcelain

Aimless is the mind on porcelain

And we dwell like antique paintings

Older every day

Older every day