Sometimes thoughts aren't quite enough.
Your mind feels like an empty cup, and the bottom of the well is so, so dry.
You're floating on these empty dreams, and sudden little wicked things,
The things from which you've run.
This beast's upon you like broken glass.
Your mind so full of emptiness, and the thoughts of those who've run.
You're drowning in this sinking ship, going for a lonely dip,
though this has just begun.
So hold tight to these snapping strings,
all these little broken things.
Loneliness, it's heavenly.
One with the rising sun.
Your mind feels like an empty cup, and the bottom of the well is so, so dry.
You're floating on these empty dreams, and sudden little wicked things,
The things from which you've run.
This beast's upon you like broken glass.
Your mind so full of emptiness, and the thoughts of those who've run.
You're drowning in this sinking ship, going for a lonely dip,
though this has just begun.
So hold tight to these snapping strings,
all these little broken things.
Loneliness, it's heavenly.
One with the rising sun.
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