I'll use the feathers as hammers, shoveling coal for the queen bee
And be equally disheveled, fighting bruises off, refusing to sleep

I'm a child of empty promises
A product of mistakes
But I'm thankful for the false impressions made

Horizon breaks through to me

So what's another throat to hold this knife to
When it's been against mine for years

Bludgeoned and blue

These rods and cones can only take so much
From your empty words to this bending crutch
Was it inherited? I can never know
But I'll find all my answers with my baggage in tow
There's an art to starting fires
Let's see how many bridges we can burn

Do not listen to the sirens, they will drain you then spare you the antidote

None of these songs are about you, how does it feel
Rolling, turn over this hill