Increase the dose, diminish the high
A smile is a pipe dream
Suffering aged like wine
Coughing up blood
With my mind on fire
Juggling switchblades on a high tension wire
I don't have any scars, only dormant wounds
That crack like fault lines
I only have five thoughts anymore
And four of them are of you
Body bursts and leaks like a trash bag
Into the gutter and the grave

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS