Texty: Park. Pomona For Empusa.

Are we still connected or was it just a plot,
to get yourself off, and hope that I'm not
listening when it happens.
(she said)
I can't begin to say how sorry I am,
I never meant for this to happen.
the Sun goes down, the knives come out..

I'm on the island you left me on,
such a sickening strip of sand;
no lifeboats, no getting off.

We give up, we give in, we take what we can;
we're trapped deep without a second chance.
we give up, we give in, withought blinking;
Jesus Christ, what was I thinking?

oh these lungs desperatley filled by someone
starving and sad,
because you know your lover,
won't be back.
all these words , useless and absurd
Such a sight of this,
makes the harbor and the water sick.

Shall I stay rejected or end up drunk and soft
Like a bitter old man sunk in his veins
Trying not to get caught.
(he says)
I know you didn't miss the sound that I made;
it's simple,and sad, and easy to fake.
the liquids down, the knives come out.


I'm on the island you left me on,
such a sickening strip of sand;
no lifeboats, no getting off.

We give up, we give in, we take what we can;
we're trapped deep without a second chance.
We give up, we give in, withought thinking;
I'll be there the night you go down.

oh these lungs desperatley filled by someone
starving and sad,
because you know your lover,
won't be back.
all these words , useless and absurd
Such a sight of this,
makes the harbor and the water sick.

I understand your reasons,
for this awkward dance.
I'd leave me, too,
if I thought I had the slightest chance.

I cry aloud to these sheets they grip back tight.
i fall asleep to the sound of my own life.
If I drink this bottle fast enough,
I might get lucky and won't wake up. [x2]