eighteen fifteen;

from by Bloom

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lyrics

I heard tales of grace
That its nothing that I paid for
And if I stood still I'd hear the small voice
But I need you so much more than a conscience
Be the marrow in my aching bones
Be the blood in my whiskey veins
Be the short breaths in my smoke filled lungs

My ambivalence has exhausted me to the point of apathy
I'm infatuated with the clothes of sheep
I wish that I could ignore the teeth

I almost blasphemed the ghost
Because apparently he can't take a joke
And that way I could never go back
But I was always too scared to go that far

My ambivalence has exhausted me to the point of apathy
I've wrapped myself in the clothes of sheep
I ignore my teeth until I bite my tongue and cheek

I am cleansed
I am damned
I'm a product of environment
It rips my mind apart like thorns weaved inside the crown
I am cleansed
I am damned
I'm a product of my mother's hands
It rips my mind apart like thorns weaved inside the crown

credits

from Seasons of Doubt, released October 31, 2016

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