Lyrics
Out of contact, withering will
The grey matter decaying till
Interaction without appeal
Is imitating other faces to feel
No remorse is found in a heart filled
Save inspiration from it getting killed
The bitter harvest of a barren field
That separates what was and what's unreal
The night comes to remind oneself you know the deal
The right wounds justify themselves until they heal
From inside a head left filled with space
Once dedicated to what she'd relate
There is a quiet you'll come to hate
When just the echo of goodbye remains
Existential fear's no larger teeth
Than watching empathy turn into grief
And understanding that you can't keep
A flame from flickering if it's out of reach
The right wound, self-inflicted, though you cannot fake
The right move being what you wish you didn't take
'Cause when the night comes and the only warmth that you can feel
Is the right wound when you let it bleed so it won't heal
So it won't heal
Won't let it heal
Won't let it heal