lirik lagu tiramika - mordant
[chor]
breathe in the air through those broken lungs
you grimace and groan but god has long since given up
pestilence creeps in for what was once the sun
vows, beheaded, in the angel’s crimson eclipse
abjurated by our piercing eyes
repudiated for you have so long lost your sight
and we won’t mourn the sun, nothing is lost
in the arms of scorched blood and angel ichor
[ver]
i bite my tongue
waiting for what i’ve made
i step into
a mausoleum that’s lined in grey
[pre~chor]
and now the fates arе coming (the fates are running)
thеy keep humming my name (singing to whoever’s there)
i stumble down (king and crown)
a mothmade stairwell
and even now i hit the ground
[chor]
breathe in the air through those broken lungs
you grimace and groan but god has long since given up
pestilence creeps in for what was once the sun
vows, beheaded, in the angel’s crimson eclipse
abjurated by our piercing eyes
repudiated for you have so long lost your sight
and we won’t mourn the sun, nothing is lost
in the arms of scorched blood and angel ichor
[ver]
reincarnate
for a soul’s mortal whims
are so fragile
they’re pr~ne to break in the wind
[pre~chor]
and well i swear i heard you breathing (heard me grieving)
whispering in the dark (my thoughts are so far apart)
readjusting (metal chiding)
to what’s still left skittering inside my own head
[spoken interlude]
“why this dream? why here?”
“i loved you. i still love you.”
“and yet,”
“with all that’s been seen,”
“and all that hides behind my irises.”
“i ought to do anything but.”
“i ought to love you.”
[chor]
breathe in the air through those broken lungs
you grimace and groan but god has long since given up
pestilence creeps in for what was once the sun
vows, beheaded, in the angel’s crimson eclipse
abjurated by our piercing eyes
repudiated for you have so long lost your sight
and we won’t mourn the sun, nothing is lost
in the arms of scorched blood and angel ichor
[chor2]
something remains but it’s a face i don’t know
bodies are built of lead and meant to chitter chatter
calcium oxidises feasting on
brilliantly mismatched tears of carmine fealty
memories marching back from wounds of gold
oh, sticks slit and stones will never come close, i’ll have you know
and i won’t mourn the sun, nothing was won
in the arms of singed blood and diatian ichor
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