You’re my phantom even though you make me feel so alive.

You’re my phantom even if its like you’ve already died.

Our sweet memories been washed away with misery.

Something so beautiful shouldn’t be haunting me.

Why are you haunting me?

Wandering this empty town (every night).

Even stars above have moved on.

But these streetlights remember when we were alive.

Now we’re telling the tale.

This story is over.

Life just ran out.

We barely exist.

Why must it rain, on days like these?

Pray.

Prey.

Praying it’ll wash away the sorrow.

But I’m actually drowning; never to see tomorrow.

Why are you no longer concerned by my words?

As I scream them out.

I miss you more than time itself.

I miss you more.

I miss you more.

So why aren’t you concerned by my words?

As I scream them out.

As I scream them out.

As I count each drop that soaks my skin.

Everything fell into place as spring arose.

Just as the year came to a close.

For our colors bled out, for the very first time.

Including my own.

Including my own.

I finally stopped working against myself as I let you go.

Memories hiding somewhere beneath Syracuse’s white snow.

I won’t forget you but 8 months is a long way’s to go.

We’re too young to be breathing like this.

The nights should only be rushed when we want it that way.

Kids in love without loving themselves.

How did it get this way?

Miserable, from an irrational sense of jealousy.

Frustrated, by a point in time I was never apart of.

So why must I feel this lonely?

Even when I have you now.

There’s more conflict inside of me than in the finest novel.

And it boiling beneath me.

Its not you versus I but me against myself.

And I’m always losing.

There’s more conflict inside of me than in the finest novel.

And it boiling beneath me.

Its not you versus I but me against myself.

And I’m always losing.

I’m always losing; always losing.

I’d do anything to remove my father’s tongue from inside of my mouth.

To change the way of how these words ring out.

Its a constant reminder of where I came from.

Its a constant reminder of what you put me through.

I’d do anything.

Because they’re worth more than you ever were to me.

They hold the love you aren’t capable of; the compassion I never got to feel.

I’d do anything to let this blood run out.

I’d do anything for a new face and name.

I’d do anything to erase the shame.

I hate to bring light to this looming shadow but look what you’ve done to me.

I’d do anything to free the fear inside of me.

There are scars.

There are scars.

There are scars.

I’d do anything to learn from them.

The ground is laced with the dead.

Never to see the smoldering sky be taken over by the night again.

Death is only for the living.

Anxiety’s the voice of the end.

Death is only for the living.

Anxiety’s the voice of the end.

We worship fear stricken hours, lived in a past tense.

My pulse breaks the silence (My pulse! My pulse!).

Just because all ambition metled away, doesn’t mean I’ve disappeared.

I’m still here.

I’m still here.

My presence is enough to leave an ugly stain on the day.

So sit still, as we spiral away.

If there’s a God above, I hope he can forgive me for never believing.

Its not his fault, I don’t understand.

But if he can’t, I don’t want his love anyways.

I don’t need anyone’s guidance to lead me in the right way.

I don’t need anyone’s guidance to make it onto the next day.

If acceptance is a sin, who’s really sinning anyways?

If acceptance is a sin, who’s really sinning anyways?