Vices - Dead Poetic

Feeling cold, feeling empty.

Set the stage, where you want me

And this crowd right before me doesn’t care that I’m dying

And the audience stands with their eyes fixed on the preconceived version of me

I’m so betrayed by your hopes, but I will not hide myself for your peace of mind

Oh, but Child.

I’ve got Vices like any other man

Raise a boy to a cynic.

Take his love, and then let it turn into something

passionate

Something sick, something rabid

And I vent to keep myself from caving.

I don’t hate you, I just hate where I’m

heading

I’m left here asking, when did I trade in my bleeding heart for a selfish win?

Oh, but Mother.

I’ve got Vices like any other man

Vices that you’re not used to.

Vices that’ll make you think less of me

Leave me numb.

Leave me jaded.

She’s a dream, I just play dead

I’ve been blessed, I’ve been hated.

She’s the constant, and I’m her addict

She’s the only peace in this world, uneasy

While I bite my tongue to keep from breaking the heart that I’ve spent my whole

life seeking

The only heart I’ve ever needed

Oh, but Lover.

I’ve got Vices like any other man

Vices that you’re not used to.

Vices that’ll make you think…

Oh, but Lover.

I’ve got Vices like any other man

Vices that you’re not used to.

Vices that’ll make you think less of me.

Less of me

Feeling cold, feeling empty.

I am low, unworthy

Bleed the God.

Bleed the blessing.

Like a vulture feasting

I’ll exist as if I don’t feel conviction of my ignorance to my perfect prison

But I feel the stabs on my wrists and ankles every time I try…

To forget you.

To forget you

Oh, but Jesus.

I’ve got Vices like any other man

Vices that you’re so used to.

Vices that won’t make you think less of me