Texty: Hurt Process (The). Drive By Monologue. Ornament.

Turns to shades of gray, Summer makes it's move, You set the night on fire, How I wish I was by your side, Tragic sets of circumstances drag me to my fear. Time it seems weighted. Asphyxiated, slowly I choke, Decorated..... Like flesh on a hook. Paint it black and blue, Like you always do, Take your poison, This sickly flower blooms. Another awful day, A change in seasons, Drained of meaning, But here it stays the same. Decorated..... Like flesh on a hook. Paint it black and blue, Like you always do, Take your poison, This sickly flower blooms