Wounded in the Field of Ghosts

I can’t stand being a man wishing to scream but I can’t / I can’t cry cuz when I try, my empty eyes—already damp / I can’t complain, I’m in this position ready to change / but acid rain corrodes my body so I pay the price of chains / the pain and fear that keeps me guarded / lost in a broken heart with loneliness that nails me to the crucifix, innocence martyred / to play a part is torment / the path ahead uncharted / but all the world’s a stage when humans play the moving targets / talk is cheap suckaz / and I could ramble on for centuries / adventurous, scatter brain conducted closet symphonies / embarrass us / a timeless tirade / widespread panic panoramic from the top of off my sky scrape / cry babe cuz they done been pointing fingers ‘gain / feeling like a stranger in my own dead ringer’s skin / what / who, where, when and why, bonsai / in the secret of the invisible splinter of the mind’s eye /

Scarlet skies and crimson eyes / blanket smog in love’s disguise / cutthroat steps I trace to follow you / wounded in the field of ghosts / where signs of life are comatose / and no one finds me in my solitude /

You cut my soul and play with me / drowned in a complacency / on a daily base, erasing your touches, something’s awakening / and I hate it to be this way / I keep lying to you like constantly / and awkwardly conceal my stare when sacrificing the offering / but whatever misses this venomous synthesis / would probably try to slit it’s wrists if the option was more than hit or miss / and it’s the tits because I feel it in my heart and in my hard on / to the point of no return where I’m too far gone / when a man is captured as this in rapturous twist / savage, ravaged ravenous like a servant asking master his wish / the clash of passion, something massive as this / and it can exist just light the wick on top the broken candle stick / morbid, euphoric and I’m in need of a father figure / a bigger brother / one to cleanse me cuz I’m a sinner / dancing on the sun, I feel the feet beneath me blister / and fester, trying to test the pressure of the careless whisper /

Chorus

Have you ever been / have you ever thought / have you ever tried to speak / were you ever taught / have you ever done / have you ever seen / have you ever lived within and witnessed anything / are you confident / or are you terrified / are you trying to run away or are you paralyzed / have you ever seen the revolution televised / can you remember to forget what you just memorized /

How your spirit sway so slowly, so slowly / Cut of sinful cloth and my soul burns / don’t you love me, don’t you love me /

Starlit skies and crimson eyes / blanket smog in love’s disguise / cutthroat steps I trace to follow you / wounded in the field of ghosts / where signs of life are comatose / and no one finds me in my solitude / and if I’m crossing over friend / and the symptoms of benign begin / lay this lace to blanket upon the ground / oh, it’s such a sin / when these worn out eyes trace this callow skin / and the gallows hold your place among ghosts /