Individually wrapped, placed in neat little rows

Becoming A piece, of everything that grows

Some numbers, A name, to indicate you played the game

Came empty handed and left the same

A soul is A soul and A shell is A shell

The border in between is full of everything you felt

Some cling to A cross because they're tired and lost

They leave it up to the weather to measure the cost

And everytime I look within I recognize the darkness

Familiar to the image of the artist

Staring at the bathroom mirror in A strangers apartment

Can't remember her name, don't remember how I got here

But here I am, thinking about death again

Humbles out the stress, helps the breath get in

I need to check my friends as well as my next of kin

To let them know I love them all to the end

And when the soul begins to reap, I think she'll know me from the sleep

I keep caught in the corner of my bloodshot eyes

And if she has the nerve, to let me dump a few last words

I'm gonna turn to the earth and scream "Love your life!"

Love your life, quite cliche but I guess thats me

A ball of pop culture with some arms and feet

As discrete as I've tried to keep the drama and cancer

It's no secret I hunger for someone to feed the answers

I never expected a bowl of cherries

I'm just a virgo trying to find my own version of the virgin mary

And when I let them carry me to a cemetary

I wanna be buried with a pocket full of clarity



(Chorus)

Now, how many times must you prove you're an angel

How many more demons do you have to strangle

How much longer must you remain in this dream

Before I finally figure out if you're insane or a genius



How many times must you prove you're an angel

How many more demons do you have to strangl