Porcelain Idols

Why won’t you tell me why you never bleed?
Even when the cut is the deepest (the deadly one)
So deep that can scratch your soul
Why can’t I see your fucking blood over me?

Porcelain doll with sewed mouth
Dancing between the razors of reason
In a maze of black walls and a starless sky
Drooling despair through that hole in your chest

Why won’t you tell me why you never dream?
Even when your strings are severed (narcolepsy)
A so lethal fall of ruin and misery
Why can’t I paint your dreams in black and white?

So deep that can scratch your soul
Why can’t I see your fucking blood over me?

Reality suspends your present life
Blurred thoughts confronts your mortality
Just bow down to the laws of string master
Face the trials of the mind by the hands of the creator

Why won’t you tell me why you never die?
Even when your loss is the most painful
(The sorrowful one)
So dark that can blur the fires of hell
Why can’t lick your tears from your marble face?

Pointless existence kept to feed a major threat
Vanishing into the unseen origins of infinity
Resistance falling short, ties of blood around your neck
Seas of dormant ecstasy reflected through your iris