Atrium

I rend with disarming schemes
I'm the end, and I'm the means
I am hell, unarmed machine
I see myself in my T. V

Pink plaster
The same pictures
Of dead blondes
I'm dead wrong

In this cesspool
I'm the vessel of
The void beyond
I'm dead wrong

I'm prepared like torn out hair
Soft to touch, but unattached
I am a nervous system
About to crack
With reluctant wisdom
That I can't give back

Pink plaster
The same pictures
Of dead blondes
I'm dead wrong

In this cesspool
I'm the vessel of
The void beyond
I'm dead wrong