(An) Arsonists requiem
Lowest of light
Shadow destroyer
Swarms of rapid shards
A bitter taste (Made for wincing)
Fold
Follow
Bury
It's getting late
Pick up the pace
Just dont ask
What forever looks like
It comes on just like an arsonists smile (Slowly wincing) sending me home
We fold into the stitch
The action is making me sick
So send them home