Statuette - Sullivan

youre nothin' more than an eyesore,

a seedless rat who picks at its own scars,

i sold my soul for an island,

i payed my price my tickets at the door,

i’ll cut you open.

you are my favourite drug i hope you understand,

youre soon be broken in my hands,

if i can make you my trophy,

a perfect statue at a twisted pose,

i lay you over the tarmac,

in spite off this infectious urge to let you go