Fill their heads with bold assumptions thick with pantomime corruption . Surely they proved more disruptive than these words are interruptive . Painted visage veils intention, so I've staged this intervention . Choking now on revelation, gasp for breaths of blind elation . This is the recipe for breathing fucking fallacies: A simple blend of fear and misdirection . Crusted eyelids over every single rod and cone and twinkle in their eyes . It's all been written in the scars! So fuck what you've seen We're at the end of our rope Without a second chance to leave a few more feet, Enough to wrap around tour necks . We'd hang our bodies from the clouds and tear What's left of your paradise down! This is the recipe for honestly and open sores: A simple blend of painful complications . Sick confessions cover every single wave of sound that echoes in my ears . It's all recorded in these songs . So tell me how I'd ever hear these words and I suppose I'll tell you Where we've stashed away those insolent freaks . Here's your fucking hint!