The Noble Rot - Grayscale Season

Distant feeling

Bleeds right through

It’s in your arms now

It’s over soon

Sharpen the knife

Cut me open

Sharpen the knife

Sever the limb

Four years talking, but nothing’s new

Stitches like seams, to close the wound

I’ve tried to temper but its seeping through

This itching feeling

And the white noise too

Distant feeling

Bleeds right through

It’s in your hands now

It’s over soon

Slit right open

Stir the masses

Sky turns golden

And Life bypasses

Life in past tense

Brightest blight

Heat transcends

Into white light

It’s in your hands now

As it drifts away

No tomorrow

Only yesterday

I’v tried to temper but its seeping through

This itching feeling

And the white noise too

You can’t see it but it’s bleeding through

The stitches need to be taut

Left is The Noble Rot