Ataris

These hospital walls are the palest of white
Here in this desert they're reciting my last rights
The smell of these halls
Brings temporary comfort
As the oxygen flows through my blood
El Corazon was poisoned tonight...
She's on her eight of nine.
When half of all your prayers are insincere,
The other half are lies.
Here is this watermark under this bridge.
The point where it all crested,
Rolled back and drifted into the sea.
I climb from this wreckage