<center>Rives</center>

and a moth ridden stag played at the sheets, devouring lies and taking their seats
black velvet ties consumed in his mind, tied to waist like a noose scared of height
jumping and singing, the sorrow will dance, grinning from tears we both will hold hands
with lies as our ash and death in our past the smoke in our lungs turns these intentions to dust
shutter and squirm together agian, the lines will be skewed tattooed to our skin
you hold my hand tightly forgetting to fall, im your nothing, were nothing at all
the spiders true bite kissing your breather, deception in mind sour the rest
words spoken truly sincere in their own, strung into lines and taken as home
pupils reflection de-vin as it comes, moving through fate swimming in bed
words with out meaning sensing the end, taking the perfect drinking a friend
misconception is cretin for cryptic at best, delusions of christ holding him right
the space that they crawl narrowly closing changing his empty to what he is holding
empty his hands alone in his bed, her arms still they hold him, in agony wed.