Dead Hands

[Verse 1]

We'll stretch the skin out till it hurts

A smile from ear to ear

Your side of the story, the worst

Attempt at preventing tears

Here I am, the archetype of words

Give me a moment

And I'll make it worse

The flesh it opens in cold blood

It's put to paper with

A constant upper hand I could

Claim to be at peace with it

Or I could set fire to your dying wit

Welcome to heartbreak

You're gonna drown in it

And I'll be on the ocean floor

Black hearts, dead hands

The ink has finally run dry from this lonely pen

The cardiac arrest is worse

When honest spines are still

The blade it ruptures, no remorse

But a hell of a way to feel

Your insides flatten out and flee the course

And a tangled conscience creates a new Cold War

I won't be your open door

Black hearts, dead hands

The ink has finally run dry from this tragic pen

Black hearts, dead hands

We'll sink down to the bottom while you're busy sifting sands

Your cold dead hands

Those cold dead hands

I'd like to thank the sands of time

For burying us both just right