Stop, drop and repeat

Burning embers hug these shoulders that used to have a shirt to keep social standards.
In flames, my body starts to rot of charcoaled flesh which hasn't started pushing up daisy's.
Stop, drop and repeat; drown my flames in Vaseline. I'm not sure which is easier to use.
Maybe when I'm not wallowing into favors or mascaraed invitations. I'm caring my bluffing face.
If I play my cards right I might just be able to fold and win the money; perhaps its the other way around.
From the left to the right; my legs will lunge straight into what we call reality.
Snapping my ligaments and dragging my feet in the mud; reality wasn't ever easy to comprehend.
Alone with my back facing my audience; if only stage left could be my easy way out.
I'm collecting dust on the mantle with all of your other rewards; It's just another moment to mention you.
If I wanted to be saved; I'd have my hands open, but we both know I'm preoccupied with the stage fire.
Screaming to create more of a problem, they said fighting fire with was going to work but it only made a residue of my stench
Not meeting rock bottom but just drifting the rest the way to the bottom, where I go no one ever knows.
Recognize and collect my dust into a jar, but then you realize I don't really care.
While playing truth or dare, everyone laughed until you said dare.
Love to stay around, but fire has me burning for another chance to get out of reality.