Tired tracks Spiral steps Spinning mind blank In the bank I forget Ephasize Inner Strain In the back of the brain where they line it with eyes Get a fucking sense don't need a Banquet Anguish Apparently They end up in Basket Of ashes Light another post Appear redacted In caskets Ain't no point pressed Take notes out of guess Don't trail Need sweep Cover In it to deep Turn black White dress All Red Blood weep Seamless as curtain on my vision Out of blindfolds Stem from a certain dispositions Not account for Fighting my anxiety Ghosts are passing right through me Splitting off reality When was the last time I caught some good sleep I just wanna pull the trigger my brain feel like a disease Always having nightmares cause istasha guides me through my dreams Wide horns Cleric beast Time has come to serve the feast Blood inherit from diseased