Hemlock

Dangerous type skin

Filthy secrets swallowed

By the hands of time

I can still taste their liquor

On my tongue, growing numb

Remember what I said

So you can tell me again

If I'm not dead

By morning

Terrorist plots in buried messages

Guilty eyes hollowed

By little white lies

I can still taste your vigor

On my lips, move quick

I'll remember your warning

So I can ignore it again

When we're skin to sin

And screaming

I will shed light, I will exist

For one more late night swallowed

By circumstance

I can still taste the cold

On my breath, letters left

To be read in the adjourning

Silence, and again

When we're feeling defiant

And reckless

Your dangerous type skin is

The same shade as my sins

Those filthy secrets are best chased with

A bottle of gin

I can still taste your absence

On my breath, these phantom images

Are all I have left, and I'll be damned

If I'll be joining the dead

Before mourning.