Rats -

Thought I would find you here

Sleeping with sick fear, you

Taste stale flesh with dull green eyes, a

Sad old hat of dust and flies

Black heels and bent wheels

Blisters on skin peeled, no

Chance is left beneath this knife

Renounce and abdicate this strife

«Your words can’t reach me, you’ll

Die if your hands touch me

Lost in your aimless lies you’re

All dry leaves and I am the fire»