I Dread The Time When Your Mouth Begins To Call Me Hunter

I must confess that nothings changed for now
While knives that line sweet conversations still find a way
Into our beds while we sleep
Can't you see that there's an ocean that drawn a line
Between our bodies and our minds, we look for ghost
And that's what we find
Will we bury who we loved or is the ground
To cold to break?
Well we slept our way through knowing what to do