Voluspa

I'm not alive

These pills are my mind and I invite thieves inside to steal my soul

They've been dancing down my throat in the form of smoke

You were born to start; programmed to stop, born to fly; expected to drop

Obvious to the touch, invisible to the eye; bottoms to the sky

So far from safe but so close to sound

So high that every step you take will miss the ground

Fortunate son, didn't you know that the sky is painted on?

So stop living your life around alarms

Tonight we are invisible

All we are is ghosts

All we breathe is smoke