Texty: Converge. Unloved And Weeded Out. Year Of The Swine.

You carry the loyalty of dogs
so you shall be led to the slaughter as swine
It all seemed so real when you whispered
adorned with the best of intentions
Bleeding softly
It's late and my ears can't listen
and there is no one to lift me to my feet
But still I dream of you
twisting and contorting beneath a garbage bag veil
And this is how it ends
Pretty and black as the soul
Just for one split instant I want to be the lucky one
Not to have the pleasure
of tasting the salt of my own tears when we kiss