the mise-en-scene
is gasoline
on your tongue and cheek
i can see
that your knees are week
stop your speak
try to explain
you had all the days in the fucking week
now you about to be six deep
call me mister ripley
the way i play dickie
boy i cant relax
wish i had an axe
hacking hacking on your back
the bones that i crack
sippin on cognac
every time i spin a tale
ask the difference cannot tell
blood is really kinda pale
you'll never fail when youre in hell

my soul is stuck at the gable corners
the toll that i paid when i crossed the border
reaching far for my shining armor
i turned into a lifeless soldier
the branch i've been hanging on is about to break
my back will catch my fall today
i wont survive even if i wake
my brain already had so much to take
it never feels that my body aches
so much to keep but less to eat
i cannot feed my mouth is sealed
the task at hand is unfulfilled
every time i spin a tale
ask the difference cannot tell
blood is really kinda pale
you'll never fail when youre in hell