On the outskirts of my mind
there's really nothing left
eternal is gone, I lost myself
again and again and again
Violet dreams of a violent kind
kaleidoscope mind of hate
The battle with everyone
was really just the other me within
On the outskirts of my mind
there's really nothing left
Hell is lose and it's only just begun
I hold the truth, I am the cure,
I hold you down, I beg you now
Try not to look me in the eye, as I'm headed for the kill
I know I have to do it,
even if I'm lost, I'm lost, I'm lost
On the outskirts of my mind
there's really nothing left
Violet dreams of violent kind
they hunt me now you're gone
And I seem to remember
the day that I lost you
And it seems like
I never had you anyway...
This ceremony of opposites in my relation to both shadows at play in complete and
utter darkness, and the inexplicable absence of light on the brightest of days. The
reality presented to me by shadows, appear no different that the one displayed by
light. I am the difference, I am the anomaly, I am the abyss, and the void. It is the
false truth, and the truth is always false.
On the outskirts of my mind
there's really nothing left
Hell is loose, hell is loose...
Can't seem to find the outskirts
Can't seem to remember the violet
Can't seem to remember the day that I lost you
Can't seem to tell a dream from a lie
Can't seem to tell you why I'm here.
Can't seem to
Can't seem to
Can't seem to.
