i see a man with a
purple rose pricking his fingers
on all the thorns
and he is bleeding


i am running down a
forever hallway
peeking through the keyholes
and i am bleeding

he's so much older
with an eternal fear
of losing all he holds dear
and my lips are sealed
they've been
slowly
.
.
.
sewn
.
.
.
shut

keyholes
just a little absense of matter
but they let in so much light
while hiding in the darkness of the doorway

laughter,
coming from inside my brain
i think i am going insain
because sin is my new game

and i love it
it feels good to be so bad
all the love that i once had
went into slowly
sewing
my own lips shut

keyholes
in everydoor
and i want more

i'm flying
while binding my hands
i cannot touch
and i cannot feel
and i don't know
what all's real anymore

keyholes with no keys
empty matter
and nothing matter
like my soul

and the needle and thread is
kept in the rooms behind
all the locked doors
with all my secrets and
all my dreams
and with no mouth
no one ever hears
my screams

just keyholes
and the man with the purple roses
holds the needle in his hands
and my heart in his teeth

just keyholes
and empty doors
to his mind
i'm all alone