Fake Your Death

Flake up your art, get out to bed make it
The only way out of here is to fake your own death
I'll help you discover the blood spots
Make your bruises hurt better than your heart does

Pack a bag that's small you'll get through them
Pack your only cherishes, your only friends
Those pictures framed with the answers
Those faces seem to disappear like all the others do
And their smile turns to the fog from our air

But I'm holding the sails too tight
And I'm trusting the wake of your body to hold me upright
No [?] could make this worth the endeavor
But I'm still burying myself close