Incandenza's Wraith

Have you ever seen a blade of grass painted green or a sky made of glass?
I hate that you say «maybe someday»
Have you ever bled the color crimson out on the streets when you were a boy?
If not, how come you pretend you were a god? Or a wraith?
Digging up the streets of New York, LA
Or some far off coastline where bones were buried
Etched with your name
And your fame just wasn’t enough, and your veil couldn’t conceal all you’re
worth
In blood or gold, in marrow or silver
Five pennies for your soul
I don’t know why we need separate places
I don’t know why we’re stuck in stasis
I don’t know why there’s blood on the pavement
Drawn from your veins
A family of broken vials shattered underfoot in denial
Because you know you just can’t get better from this disease
Your itchy teeth and shirt sleeves shrinking tighter and tighter each day
No matter how long you abstain for, you’ll always be the same
I don’t know why we need separate places
I don’t know why we’re stuck in stasis
I don’t know why there’s blood on the pavement
Drawn from your veins
I know you must be afraid but please don’t run away
I know you’re feeling unhealthy now, but don’t rush to those cemetery gates
And the needle’s looking real good
Those long talks are more stale each day
I know you’re feeling alone now
Wipe the dirt from the future’s grave