Don't come find me.
I died a couple hundred deaths
while walking (stumbling) away;
Don't make the spilled blood
be in vain.
To get you out of my chest
I had to cut it open
with a shard of the stained glass rosette
that used to be the prettiest part of my cathedral
(There are so many things
that you have felt in the right
to break)
(So many things you thought
should be able to resist the impact
of stones)
Don't follow my footsteps
now that you've got no one left to fuck;
Because I would have accepted nothing less
than your entire soul
(All you could give
was a simple touch)
(All you could want
was to devour my flesh)
But maybe when you get lost
in a forest full of mist
(When your eyes are too clouded
and all you've got left
as a compass
is your heart)
you will be able to find yourself.
