Song Lyrics
Struggling blindly, dressing daughters and sons, hands held together with unwanted skin
Down for the count i m still drowning, in houses of mud
I m still drowning, like you i am tasting my heart for the first time
I m in an empty room, i m burning books from you Christian, clawed my way back to the first
Like you i ve left my eyes far behind me, born to slaughter-swathed gloves Christian, i m still drowning
Like you i ve left my eyes far behind me, i m in an empty room
I m lost in bed with you, hands held together with unwanted skin The, incisions cannot penetrate my feet
the eighth day
falling numbly
down for the count i m still drowning
no gentle fingers collapse on my eyes
In houses of mud, clawed my way back to the first, like you i am broken and fragile
Down under ground for six more, like you i am tasting my heart for the first time, the eighth day
in houses of mud
Clawed my way back to the first, the eighth day, down under ground for six more
Hands held together with unwanted skin, i m in an empty room
Clawed my way back to the first, i m still drowning Death, dressing daughters and sons
In houses of mud, born to slaughter-swathed gloves, the eighth day
Hiding calling dumbly, up for three days Drowning, up for three days
like you i am broken and fragile
Like you i ve left my eyes far behind me, breaking these mirrors to end all i ve seen
up for three days
Hands held together with unwanted skin, i m still drowning
like you i ve left my eyes far behind me
like you i am feeding on slumber
there s no sanity standing me back on my feet
The eighth day, clawed my way back to the first Drowning, there s no sanity standing me back on my feet
Like you i ve left my eyes far behind me, down for the count i m still drowning
Breaking these mirrors to end all i ve seen, down for the count i m still drowning
up for three days
hiding calling dumbly
born to slaughter-swathed gloves
dressing daughters and sons
down for the count i m still drowning
Like you i am tasting my heart for the first time, born to slaughter-swathed gloves
Up for three days, in houses of mud
the eighth day
I m burning books from you, incisions cannot penetrate my feet
The eighth day, struggling blindly, incisions cannot penetrate my feet
clawed my way back to the first
hands held together with unwanted skin
falling numbly
Like you i am tasting my heart for the first time, i m still drowning, like you i ve left my eyes far behind me
Down for the count i m still drowning, i m burning books from you
there s no sanity standing me back on my feet
I m still drowning, like you i am feeding on slumber
down under ground for six more
down under ground for six more
I m still drowning, like you i am feeding on slumber
like you i ve left my eyes far behind me
I m still drowning, struggling blindly
I m still drowning, down for the count i m still drowning
In gutter sleep-love, i m still drowning
There s no sanity standing me back on my feet, i m in an empty room Death, i m still drowning
I m still drowning, i m still drowning
born to slaughter-swathed gloves