I'm the wolf to your sheep.
I'm the right to your wrong.
I feast til nothings left when i bite,
you're the left to my right.

You write to your songs in graphite.
To rewrite what you dont want.
cant make up your mind
or even decide your own font.
You're fake, full of lies.
Saying whatever, never taking the time
cause' your scared those grown fond
might see the coward is breaking behind.
Stakes are too high,
can't take a loan for the cost this time.
The hour glass is shaking.
The reaper is waiting theres no redo
Guilt is something you can't dispose of.
It's in a shallow torn bag and see through.
Heavier and messier sure, try to cover it up.
The harder you try the more you devalue pride.
The night's where you hide,
til' the shadows swallow any light you might find.
Not even God wants you because you wasted his time.
Just the reaper to greet you.
Faced with a smile. "I got just the place for such a disgraced juvenile."
A space where you're erased without a trace.
Where there's no such thing...