these golden ideals
yes they come & go
but the wildest spirits
spring up from the catacombs
to scratch & sting
i flatline
i wanna curse them demons
but the truth is that they're mine
no
love aint the same
it could never be
cuz our arms take home stray limbs
these days just to get to sleep
we try to make love
but love don't come
sweet virtue virtue
gone out the door
& down the hall
left me lying on a pillow
casting shadows on the wall
i could've never seen myself
so eager to dissolve
when i was just a dreamer
before the alcohol
before the fall
we try to make love
we just ****
& love don't come
