He’s coming off his high-horse, he thinks he’s Adonis from on high..

He’s unflinching, he’s sublime, he’s trying too hard, he wants to love himself.. 

Down at these horizons is where my mind eclipsed a rehearsed prince.

He smelled blood, I dived in at the wrong time, take my time off for you, waste another moment with you..

They infect the same, we’re fucked the same, no one’s taken high.

She’s arrived from the farthest abyss, she’s another character with a blanker slate..

She’s untouched, she’s minded, she’s tried many times, she wants to know herself.

Down at the grove is where it wraps around a character, the chapters singe.

He smelled blood, I dived in at the wrong time, take my time off for you, waste my moment with you..

We’ll hate the same, they’re all to blame, no one’s taken high.

What’s there to read? Where’s the narrative, here’s your proof. The story was never yours. We like to think we’re the purest.

He smelled blood, I dived in at the wrong time, taking time off then I’ll waste a moment thinking of you..

We lost everything, we’re going insane, and we’re not taken high.

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