#7 I've been dancing on this killing floor for years
When I am sad, I plan my suicide;
but the irony is that this thought
makes me happy too happy to commit to a certain fate
though I know each breath of this polluted air
draws me certainly nearer to hypoxia
and I do not know the distance I have yet to travel
to taste that sweet surrender
but I know, today it is half that of last month,
and that half of the time before
and the mysterious temptress will only let me understand her
for a blink or a dream, before dashing down a shadowed alley
abandoning me to walk back down the streets paved in blood spray painted gold
that masquerade as a quaint village, with her endless black eyes spying me
but the irony is that this thought
makes me happy too happy to commit to a certain fate
though I know each breath of this polluted air
draws me certainly nearer to hypoxia
and I do not know the distance I have yet to travel
to taste that sweet surrender
but I know, today it is half that of last month,
and that half of the time before
and the mysterious temptress will only let me understand her
for a blink or a dream, before dashing down a shadowed alley
abandoning me to walk back down the streets paved in blood spray painted gold
that masquerade as a quaint village, with her endless black eyes spying me