#oh sleeper

The hourglass is vacant. Sand turns to medication. You can fill me but I'll never be full. I'm slipping to sedation... the seconds are contagious. Can you tell me if I'm terminal? Idol/Idle hands and naked hearts. What sleeps in our skin waiting to tear us apart? I count the pills - you count the time. There's never enough... never enough to change my mind. Don't look back, Sea of the Dead! I turned to salt in a hospital bed. I'm shaking hands with stillborn clocks. I'll stare to the east until time stops. All these pills won't scratch the surface if the cancer's in my soul. Am I terminal? Every day is an anesthetic; dying young just to grow old in this terminal. Holy wars... a choir of swords sing us back to the desert - into the dust of before. Tie me down, inhale the key... pure as smoke in your sacred fantasy. All these pills won't scratch the surface if the cancer's in my soul. Am I terminal? Every day is an anesthetic; dying young just to grow old in this terminal. Burn the forest for the splinters. Medicate the witch in me. Drop the bomb and make it winter. Take my hand like surgery. Fly away, you're white as snow. We only return when there's nowhere to go. There's nowhere to go in this terminal. All these pills won't scratch the surface if the cancer's in my soul. Am I terminal? Every day is an anesthetic; dying young just to grow old in this terminal. In this Terminal.

hii, 721 666 312 409 555