I'll be the scapegoat. And you'll be the martyr. I'll be the son. And you'll be the daughter.I'd like to be the dirt on your coffin lid. I miss you that much. California sends it's regards speaking for the other states. I brought you flowers that I stole from another grave. I'll be the scapegoat. You'll be the martyr. I'll be the sun reflecting on the water. I'd love to be the dirt on your coffin lid. I miss you so much. There are words that I never had the chance to say and if they found their way to my lips, the ears that would hear aren't your's. So I don't give a shit. No, I don't care one bit. My mouth will stay stuck this way. Like it's been for years. So if the noose fits. Wear it. I always knew that things would be fine. We'd be partners in time. A hangnail moon lights my final thoughts. A rope draped over a branch. Oh, if the noose fits. Wear it. If that coffin's wide. Share it.
