It starts and stops in little things
And as we age and lose desire, the middle line starts to blur
It s*****rns to carelessness
The middle man who sinks to stay in grace
Friend to all - loyal to none
But before I walk that rope I'll hang from it
So instead I'll bury them
Bring hammers to heads
Plant flowers on their skulls like there was nothing ever there
My choice: your time to disappear
And as we age and lose desire, the middle line starts to blur
It s*****rns to carelessness
The middle man who sinks to stay in grace
Friend to all - loyal to none
But before I walk that rope I'll hang from it
So instead I'll bury them
Bring hammers to heads
Plant flowers on their skulls like there was nothing ever there
My choice: your time to disappear