Mourning the death of spiders
In a mausoleum made of maggots
Surrounded by the buzzing of the flies
That we alone bred and brought to life
Pausing at the desk of the king of all creation
Being underwhelmed at his plain and somber face
Within this moment trapped am I
Erebus looping round and round forever more
Between my bloody fingers papercut to ribbons
There’s a secret tunnel direct to my faltering heart
Inside of me there is a melancholy shadow
Gripping my liver with its old and boney hands
To cover rotting flesh with the sickly scent of honey
Bottle this and sell it to the Yankee candle crowd
Oh god I feel the nothingness, the emptiness
Between my head and heart I’ve found the dark again
