They drug me to the river,
beat me till I turned blue.
Pack mentality, taunting,
and I’m just praying for a clue.
The delicate flower,
her limbs tired,
body aching,
her heartstrings unwired.
The susceptible cowards,
with their numbers and their power,
no one is ringing the bell tower for me,
and the world begins to feel,
a whole lot rounder.
They drug me to the river,
beat me till I turned blue.
Pack mentality, taunting,
and the next thing I knew was you.
I saw you for the first time
and I licked my lips.
“Are you okay?” you say,
but I was born for this apocalypse.
You’re smiling with worry,
holding me steady with such urgency,
I sense safety.
I sense your strife,
I can feel how real you are,
I can feel that you’re beautifully alive.
I saw you for the first time
and I licked my lips.
“Are you okay?” you say,
but I was born for this apocalypse.
Yeah,
I was just praying for a clue.
And the next thing I knew,
I was looking at you.