Starving Artiste

I made a pact to not sleep through the end

All of the dreamers are stuck in their beds

Fight off the attraction to always play dead

I'm tortured by white noise in half hour sets

Ears ringing

Your mouth ran for miles but hasn't gone anywhere

You're lost.

I heard the word on the street and it means nothing to me

So how do you like me now?

Where's your passion?

The Renaissance man is a thing of the past

To you it's fashion

Dress up; don't address what keeps us from resting

The jackals circle for the feast

I try to fight it off, but it's consuming me

The rapture has only begun (while you sleep, they watch you breathing)

And you can bet it gets worse when the moon crashes into the sun (while you dream, both ends are burning)

Pray for one more chance (they will steal air from your lungs)

In the back of the hearse, overturned as your insides prolapse (wake before, before it's too fucking late)

Everyone has a skeleton key

Everyone rots in captivity

Everyone is sleeping off the heat

You shut the blinds as they cauterize what lives inside,

You shut the blinds as they cauterize what lives inside.