Do I look strange to you? Do I look odd to you? Do I look strange to you? Do I, do I, do I, do I? Like the winter storm Like the winter storm Like the winter storm Oh Do I look strange to you? Do I look off to you? I'm not in pain from you Oh, I fell away from you Like the winter storm Like the winter storm Like the winter storm Oh

Can you tell if it's worth it? If it's really really worth it Well if I can't be your shining queen Instead I'm me, what does that mean? You said I'll push through it, well Will I really push through it? Well, all I see is my own dreams They play them out as I watch the screen But what if I, what if I, what if I want it that way? What would you, what would you, what would you have to say? Everything, everything, everything's made of clay All I do, all I do, all I do is fire my glaze Stop Look at where your cards lie Stop Serve the man or starve and die But I wanna be where all they can see Is me on top of bones Clear my throne I want to be on television I want to be on television I can't go on Living like this It's none of your business My future's gone Thrown in the bin This direction I'm in It's tearing me, tearing me, tearing me apart I need a jump, need a jump, need a jump, need a jumpstart Can you just...stop? I don't wanna hear it I want to be on television I want to be on television Television, television Television, television Television, television Television, television

I think there's something in the air What it is, do I really care? But why do we slave away, everyday? Why must my body pay? Rise I'll stay in the darkness Fly I know you don't want this Die I don't want to die this way Bathe, the steam will melt your pores like candlewax Eat, you must be so hungry, return, relax Why do we hate ourselves, for we are nay But vessels of God Sees My Dreams Rise I'll stay in the darkness Fly I know you don't want this Die I don't want to die this way Do we truly know God? DO WE EVEN KNOW HIS NAME?

Ā̷͒̔͒̓ͅ ̷̩͎̂ṁ̴͍̚ī̶̱̐l̶̲̼͆͐̒͜͠d̵̢̗̩͓̪̀ ̸̨̮̝̯̣̆̾̍͂b̴̰̳̜͌͒͘u̵̡̥͇̘̺̾͒͊̈́̇ţ̵̬̝̰̊ ̸͈̰̠̬̝̂l̵̘̳͈̯̅́̽o̸̖͉͙̺̭̒̌͌̋n̵̞̈́̕g̵̝̩̊̊͋̒͝-̵̛̱̝͚͂͘ṭ̸͆͘e̷͈͋́̏́͝r̴̤̈́m̸̻͚̰̺͙̂͝ ̸̪̜̝͖̣̌f̸̨̡̼͉̔̊̂͝ŏ̵̢̨͖̠r̸͍̹̯̫͐ḿ̵̡͈̯͐ ̸͎͍̙̍o̶͕̺͕͍͆f̶̦̘̘̄͑͜͠ ̷̨̼̖͓̉̓͝ḓ̴͔̲̇́́̈ȅ̸̼̦̜͈̇̽͐p̸̻̝̽̈͐ͅṛ̵̨̾̓̊̿̈́ę̶̞̭̖̓s̸̱̎̓s̷͖̘͍̮̟̅̀͝i̶̞̤̬̦̿͠ǒ̵̥̫͈͓̿̐̓n̵̹̔̾̉̚.̴̡̺̺̂̀̂͝ ̸̜͗D̴̺̱̏̎͌̕y̵̬̯̪̔̒̕͜ŝ̷̯̤̫͍̍̓ͅt̵͚́̃̌̌h̶̬͎̜͛̑̄̔ẏ̴̡͉͔̹͓̐͌̕͠m̸̖̗͉͐̽̔͒̂ͅi̵̺͐ȁ̷̠̮̃̋̒ ̷̲͙͈͍̫̏̊i̴̲̯̩̓͂͑s̵̢̛̟͉͌̑ ̵̢̙͎̼̹̈͑d̸̜͇͔̖̐̓͊̓͘e̶̩͉̫͌͛̄̕f̷̯̽͛ị̷̀̀̊ṉ̷̈̋̄͂̚e̸̺̔̿͝d̶͈͖̒̾̉̍ ̶̤̃͂a̴̧̗͕̜̿̚͝ş̷̹̬̀͂͗ ̷̭̬̅̔̽̚ă̸͉̪̻͌ ̶͈̲̺̝̫͑l̷̊̽̒͜ő̷̘͓̱͕͐̅̾w̴̞͑͊ ̸̙͎̈́͊͝m̴̨̛͌ȯ̷̝̘͒͆͘o̴̟̯͎̭̙̓d̵͚̙̆̈́͋ ̴̢̛͕̜̹̔ͅǫ̵͍͈͐̀c̴͚̻͇̥̯̀̒c̴̛͔̐̂̃͘u̶̬̩̮̩͗r̵̛̟̎͐̕r̴̋̑͝ͅi̷̦̜̮͌ñ̵̢̙̪͌̌͝g̵̤̬̝̰̮̾̃͝ ̵̮̩̥̄͑͋͝f̴͔́̒o̴͔̗͎̜̙͗̽̏̓r̸̘̮͋͋̈̚ͅ ̵͉̤̀͂̉͝ā̷̧̢̭̱̑͂̍͛ͅt̵̜̤͇͆ ̵̗̮͇̬̄l̷̨̰̲̺̬̏͌͑́͠e̴̟̫͊͋̾a̸̭̝͎̽̀̅͝ś̵͖̼̻̆̽t̸͚̖̝͓̘̔̍͂̚ ̶̢̡̖̩͚̽t̸̹͕̰̙̜͒̽͒̕w̴̘̪̮͛̓ṑ̶̻̍ ̶̙̼̯̖͕́̐̽̈́̑y̶̛̻̪̠̭̅͌̓̉ě̸̱̐͘͠a̴̜̓͘r̵̡͈̖̥̱̃͌̏͘s̶̡̤̘̥̳̑̆̾̕͝ ̴̛̠̭̰͓̔̈́̐̒Ă̷͔̯̾l̶͙̰̝̪̊͋ͅo̶̻͍̊͆̅͠n̴͇͚̓̋͜g̷̢̤̼̼̲̀̊̈́̂͝ ̵̳̩̙̋͜w̴͚̒͛̅̍͝í̷̦͎̀́͜ṭ̵͚̄̇̈h̸̘̣͇̣̊ͅ ̴̨̛̗̼̱͌̅̌a̴͍̫̩͇͚̔͐̇͒t̸̨̼͉̠͆ ̶͎̘̲̀͛l̶̹̫̗̝̇̈́͌͋ẻ̵̡͗̚ḁ̷͚̙̹͐͝s̴̪̪̙̄̕t̷̨̢͋̈́̌͘ ̶͔̮̈͗̊t̷̩͎̱̣͔̋̌͛w̶̼͌̊ỏ̵̡͈̭͓̪͆͛̓ ̴̘͉̌̀̋̈́ǫ̷͈͔̈́̏̓̑͠t̷͕̲͍͈̎̂̏̅͝ḫ̸̡̧͙̯͒̈́è̸̡͈̗͙̹̕r̵̼̙͙̣̥̐͐̆̒͝ ̸̡͈̙͖͍̊s̶͕͚̎̕͝y̵̟̼̰̔͜m̷̰͆̾̈́͂̓p̵̥͊ṱ̸̯͙̘͂̈́̊͘͠o̴̺͎͛̀m̶̧̪͖̮͍̂̀̉̓̈́š̶̰͝ ̴̻̰̜͖͊̅ó̵̩͇̮̼͛͜f̷̖͂ ̶̡̘͖́̆̋͜͠d̶̼͛̌͑e̶̛͇͉̬p̴̥̻̑̂̍̓r̴̯͔͖̎ể̴̼̪̇ͅs̷̡͉͙̟̒̐ͅs̴̢̢̯͍̘̚͠i̷͖̥͎͕͐͗̑͘͜ö̸̩̻́̍̈͘ň̷̞͎͑̕.̴̨͓̙͚͘ ̷͕͈́Ȇ̵̖̯̤̆͂͘ẍ̶̥́͗͂̏̕ǎ̴͚̏̒͜m̸̡͖͒̈p̵̯̮̊l̴̳͖̥͌͝ḛ̸̞̲̌́͗̋ṣ̴̪̒͗̏ ̶͍̉̂͒̓̚o̴̡̻͆f̶̳̦͉̫̀͒͌͛̚ ̶͎̜̈́̅̚ś̷̱ŷ̷̲̬̪̽̀̈m̸̬̔p̸̡̙͕̀̍̾̋̋t̷̡͙̜́̄͛͠o̸̟̲͝m̷̢͍͖̩̍̇̂̔s̵͙̹̹̯͋͋̈́̃̚ ̸͎͈̄̃͊͌͜ͅi̶̮̠̫̠͑̋̋̈͛ń̴̺̲͓c̶͖͈̈́l̸̓͜u̶̪̟̖͖̖̒͊̿͐d̵̪͎̩͎̱̉ë̶͍͛̚͝ ̸̢̼̦̲́̈͠ͅl̷͍̬̓͂̿̍̓͜ỏ̶͈̲̝͆ͅs̷͎͒͠ṯ̷̝͕͑̋ ̵̨͐͐i̵̹͚͌͆ṇ̷̡̙̣̯̈̈́̈́͠͠t̶̳̗̒͋͛͑ȅ̶̢̙̝͗͂̔r̴̨̐̓͝ͅe̵͚̖̖̗̰̋s̶̲̠̩̠̞̏̏t̸̲̗͂͐̄͜͝ ̵̥̹̓̓̅i̸̟͗̕̚n̸̡̝̙̈́̒́̿ ̵͎͓͈̖̞̂n̴͖̗̟̒̐̎o̴̗̎̓̄̂͝r̸̛͕̫̪̀m̶̰̂̃̈͛͐ȃ̶̺l̶̛̘͊͗͠ ̴̣̗̓ã̵̼̖͊͋ć̶͍͙̱͔́̎ṭ̷̺̗̑̽̆͐͠i̵̻̟̓̔̒v̶̫͙̦̽͐́i̴͈̯̚̕͜t̵̯̎̎͊͛̎ḭ̸̦̇ē̶̜̟̃͂̋̕͜s̷̻̻̘͘ ̷̨̟̞͍̠̉͛͠͠H̶͇̼̀͒ơ̴̡̖̗̣͚͊͛̿̾p̸̢̣̓͗̂é̶̛̘l̸̼͓͖̩͗̓͠ẻ̸͓͔͗̿̚s̴̲͙̲̻̏̅̇͌̕s̵̱͐n̶̤͇̤̪͒e̷͚͐͌͊̕s̷̯̲̗̰̊̏͝͝ś̵̡̨̥̿ ̸̧͔͓̗̂́͝L̷̢̛͉̤̈́͆́͝ŏ̴̧͖̻̐̎ẁ̶̟̱͕̇ ̵̟̌̓͘s̷̯͌͛̓͒͝è̶̗̑́̕l̵̢̕͠͝f̵̨̛-̵̼̣̪̖̿̓̕ͅĕ̵̩͉̹̲͙s̵͎̫͖̪̏̒̓̈́͠t̷̨̝͔̱̻͛̌̀͌e̴̢̡͂́̑̚ͅe̵̘͕̞͈͎͆͛͘m̷̨̜̣̗̀͆͠ ̴̧͙̺̍̄̍͊L̸̢̨̺̼̾̌̍ó̴̭̪̮͍͜ŵ̶̢̺̮͔͔̐͆̿͋ ̶̦͚͆̔ả̵͚p̵̣͆p̷͓͚̭̖̔ė̶̼͓͗̆t̷̹͔͈̦͗̌̋͂͝ï̶̭̰̓͋̽̾t̴̪͙̜͆̒͊͜e̴̤̾̾ ̶̥͉̥̈͜L̴͛͜o̷̪͇̲̍͂͛̒w̷̙͆͂̀̃͆ ̶̢͓͉͊̏̓̐̆ͅę̶̩̼̗̗̀n̶̯̓̄e̸̜̜̐̓̓̍r̷̦̦͓͚̎̿͜͠͝g̵̢̓͐̉̽͝y̶͔̹͆ ̸̭̓̆̓Ṣ̸̖̠͎̽l̶̮̍̑̊͊͝ę̸͈̠̱̓͒̉é̷̤̘̽̋ṕ̸̲̿̈͜ ̴̡̮̖͎͙̐̄̕c̷̪̩̻̋̒̋h̸̡̯̦͎̺́̊̽̽͌ã̸̮̠̓̆n̶̼̟͔̓̒͊͝g̷̹͂̒e̶̡̘̼̳̤̿͌͛̍͘s̶̨̳̞̣̊͌̀̔̕͜ ̷̧̗̈̈́̕Ä̶̬̱̫̲́̐ǹ̵͇̽̃̌d̸̰̝͕̹̩͋͒̽̆ ̵̧̈́͊̓ṕ̷̝̪͎͑ọ̵̪̭̆̍̎̃ͅö̶̦͍͚̹̈̇̎͒r̵̹̔͛ ̵̢̰͍̟̐c̴̖̹̱̣̠͌́̒ǒ̸̢͓̘̭̥ñ̵̜̫̜̳̙̌̀̄͘c̴̡̫͉̻͍̄͊̃͐͠e̵̛̻̯̺̱̦̎ṇ̵̢̛̱̮͎͂̈̽ţ̸̲̩̥̒̽͌r̶͉͆̉̓a̷̯͓̮͇͗̏̀̅t̶̤̼͛͋̋̉͝i̷̯͔̻͍̍̃̋͛o̸͓͚̍̏̒̑͂n̸̳̭̗͛̇̽͗͊.̶̩̘̺̔ ̶̟̪̣̱̊ ̴̲̝̣͐Ț̶̮̎̉̚͜r̶̦̉̃̉̕ȩ̴̛̳̜̳̜̂̋̕a̵͓̪̒͂͌̇̕t̴͈͈̗͈̏̄m̷̛̙̠̦̘̜̎͂̈́ė̴̢͓͓̥͍́n̸͈͙̰͕͗́̽ţ̷͍̊͊̈̇͆s̶͕̺̺̾ ̵̹͓̫̖̋̀͆́̈́i̴̛͔̝̤̮̒̍n̸̨̝̯̍̆̉c̵̨̼̒̂͗̽l̴̥̄ụ̷̢͍́͊̄͋́ḓ̴͎͗̇͘͝e̶͙̩̣̭͗͊ͅ ̶͍̜̤̆̉m̶̤̗̔͐ḙ̸̳͐̈́d̸̻̣̜̝́̃͜i̴̺̔̔c̶͙̙̠̈́̐͐a̶̼͆t̸̥̲̊̊̿͐ͅị̸͙̥̈̃͛͝ȏ̴͓̖̊̓̾n̴̝͍̯̅̑͝s̵̼̝̺̏̉ ̴̖̹̾̈̑a̸̬̬̥̪̠̐͋̀̅͒n̴̯͙̟̍͌̂d̸͚̞̰̟̿͘ ̴͖̥̏̎͋t̷̗̏́̀͆͘a̴͙̮͉̼͐l̵̞͒̔k̸̨̠̩̰͒ ̸̪̍ţ̴̞͈̣͙́̇͊͒h̵̳͐̿̎̏̓è̴̡̹̤͈̕r̴͇̊̅̂͗a̵̜̅͑͆̄̑p̷̜̗̰͉̓̂y̷̢̥̼̎̑͂̎͠ͅ.̸͚̣̃́

You say that it's over But you haven't tried You say that you know this We know that's a Lie And everything that you are Is everything you've seen So how, how can it be? Nothing's forever And everything will change I will die You will die We all die sometimes We can cry those times But we know that we must wait Till death will do us part You seem so impatient What must you wait for? If nothing's important You'll find me at your door Oh, everything I've loved It means nothing to me How, how can that be? Nothing's forever And everything will change I will die You will die We all die sometimes We can cry those times But we know that we must wait Till death will do us part Till death will do us part...

Never seen such a beautiful face For you are my grace You are my grace Your lips, are to mine, dripped in paste You're stuck in my gaze I'll keep you in your case What a wonderful end to this place I die in your embrace You are my grace Leave your mark on my body And kiss me 'til I bleed Leave your mark on my body And kiss me 'til I bleed So many days I have spent, alone Till our first summer How we have grown I won't forget our pain But I still love you Don't you forget it...