Sainthood Reps
headswell
I woke up in Paris, the lights were out
Itâs dusk and Iâm alive for now
It feels like a honeymoon for
Some weeding I wasn't invited to
I dreamt that I was absinthe
Bottled up in the basement of a
Painter down and out who needed inspiration
Write down the names of those you wronged
Say them all out loud
Watch the voice surround your neck,
Surrender to your faults
Feel you headswell
From dim light
This story never ends well
My mouth rings like a gunshot and
My head feels like the target
Iâm not calling to nurse it
I just want to lay in pain
Thereâs no sense in sedation
The feelingâs always fleeting
No truth will ever find its way out cradled in a lie
They donât believe in us, they told us not to love