If I offered you my life
Would you take it please?
If I offered you death
Would you come with me?
If I sold my pride
Could it buy a memory?
And would I be alive
Or just like every single broken cold machine
I’m taking and breaking apart?
At the queen’s behest
Painting roses red
They all wilt away
As I’m stepping through he watches me
The clock grinds to a halt
Suddenly she falls asleep
Let us count the faults
‘Ere we choose our sides
Desolate, insensate, inconsiderate
Cerebrate, contemplate, and retaliate
Focus on what is most unimportant
Selfless, helpless, is there any difference?
If it isn’t broken, no need to repair it
If it isn’t broken, don’t fucking repair it
Grinding to a halt
Set the traps in haste
All the pawns in place
As the rain subsides
Shall we finally finish this game?
Time won’t fly
As we’ve exscinded its wings
But when the first heart stops
The clock restarts
The time has come, my little friends
To talk of many things
Of guillotines and shallow graves
And severed puppet strings
Will there be tears or jubilation?
(Will) there be sun or winter storm?
How does the story end
When malice in wonderland arrives?

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