Lyrics
I am nothing to you, but flesh bound in pity and waste
A dislocated voice
from your memory that screams in the night
A body that longs to be found
A sunken recess on your grounds
Where the waste from your lush oaken table
absorbs in the weeds
and then feeds my dejected disease
I am nothing to you, but residual heart-laden slime
Buried so deep beneath turning calender pages and lime
A disgrace
My pictures all turned on their face
As you race
to scrape off the flowers i placed on the lid
with my hands to your closed casket heart
I will strike you at night when your heart is not guarding the door
I will creep in your sleep and your tears will languish on the floor
You'll awake confused by this dramatic state
And you'll hate the silence inside you,
and call for me but I've been crushed by your closed casket heart
Ich bin nicht fur dich
