Shade - Funeral Chic

Dragging every fucking chain, cold and fucking pointless, 'til my hands bleed a

trail

Until I beat my knuckles bare

I want nothing, I feel nothing

Only constant disappointment and a step that’s hard and cruel

I want shelter, I want shade

Every breath is like pushing anvils from my chest

Sleeping with an anxious tremor

It holds me and it speaks for me

Pain is all I have in life

Take your shelter, find your shade underneath the reaper’s hood

I want nothing

Life is the enemy