Fear Before The March Of Flames

Mirror: this is a surrender skin
In another room: this is hanging on
The sirens know what they are in for.
Sing the high notes, touch his hand.
This is routine.
To a spinning ceiling: this is giving up
On the ambulence: faces on! faces on!
Father don't you eat the rope I want to stay
here
Open eyes: dimmer beneath a chandelier
We are so pretty when we are faking. I am
such a liar when I smile.
Look up and never smile again