The Dotted Line

Scrape the wound
and put the salt right in its place
and make it cleaner for view
Tend the wound and make the perfect crimson stain that makes it real for you.
And you will come undone.
And you will come undone.
And you will come undone.
That’s when the test will come.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
Scrape the wound
and put the salt right in its place
and make it cleaner for view
Tend the wound and make the perfect crimson stain that makes it real for you.
And you will come undone.
And you will come undone.
And you will come undone.
That’s when the test will come.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
You live the lie.
You let it roll right from the tongue.
I recognise the act but only stand the presence for so long.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line.
A travesty in name without a hope, who lives in recognition.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.
I’d spill your blood on the dotted line
and strip the soul of validity
One more time.