Showing skin for the witting worshiper
Hands clasped in prayer, tangled with webs
The pact signed in your own bile
For this courtship, you exchange:
- Your money
- Your freedom
- Your friends
- Your identity
- Your existence
Throw a funeral for the one in love
Buried in a suit and recycled vows
The bones have superior lives now
Standing out more than my friend, the shell
Stuck in a perpetual suburban nightmare
Your apathy for life hovering over like memories
The ring on your finger is just a fancy prison
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