My wings smell like little boys
and all the things I can't destroy
rip them off and shove them in
and tote them around like badges

seal your life in little drams
with butterflies and bullets
twist it around with inspirational whispers
our happiness is spoiling

your teeth are chattering
rusted nails in a tin can
a lust for such a simple thing
that you can never have

seal your faith in little drams
with butterflies and bullets
twist it around with sadistical whispers
our happiness is spoiling

you created this thing called me
hearing you speak of denial
beating my wings against broken windows
destructive, miserable, and senile

seal your death in little drams
with butterflies and bullets
twist it around with christened lies
our happiness is spoiling

down, down, down
we're going down