Still It Sells - Coalesce

Nothing ever came so easy as the manipulation of her word

Cold and humiliated, i tried to portray this mess

I should fear it

I should give it all to them and be done with it

I fear he maybe found a use

A meaning or comprehension

Some sort of new birth or late coming death

Who’s eyes will govern this judgment?

It’s just not my place to judge who tried or to condemn who cried

I want to be her.

I want all of the answers

A crusty and scratchy mess shielded only by burlap

And the satisfaction of knowing

But i know nothing.

I am the impostor

The fake bastard holding on to dreams

I want all the answers

I won’t wince at each neck’s snap nor help at the hint of hope

I’ll just lie here wet and willing to provoke you

Still no closure

Cold is so damn trite and evil was never glamorous

Still it sells so fucking buy it as politics mean nothing now

As it’s already in their heads.

In their hands it resides a mark

So i leave mine as well to finally be picked apart

Dissected and forgotten

Ignored at best.

But it’s still a mark

She gave me rope and i climb