Remembered as comets, not as dead rocks
How could they know (that) I'm back from the dead - They are the killing kind
I've been led from the start by that man in my head, behind my eyes and my mind
I've been put in the ground, six feet below
Stabbed, cut, strangled and skinned
I've been burned to the bones
Scattered in ashes, given to sea and to wind
strangled
stabbed
sight
showing
there
scorches
rocks
could
killing
remembered
bones
ashes
right
mirror
scattered
always
built
course
behind
hello
burned
below
start
close
decide
given
watching
something
skinned
comets
ground
kings
leave
matter
mourn
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