Texty: This Is Hell. Broken Teeth.

We named this vessel hope in spite of fate but it's taking on water at and alarming rate
Hours and days and weeks spent biting my tongue until my teeth met.
Hours spent days spent, weeks spent biting my tongue until my teeth met.
The sun is out and I'm feeling like the walking dead, completely unaffected by the blood I shed.
Hours spent, days spent, weeks spent.
I bite my tongue, we are the walking dead.
We do this now because we've done it before.
We cling to hope because she floats like a corpse.
The sun is out and I'm feeling like the walking dead, completely unaffected by the blood I shed.
Hours spent,days spent, weeks spent.
I bite my tongue we are the walking dead.
We don't sleep, this is a restless road.
We're getting much too used to burying our own.
Our senses dulled but we still know.
Unaffected by the blood we shed are are the walking dead.