The Divine Suicide of K.

Better think of my answers now because I know the questions will be asked
 Like if I brought the joy I found in the confessions of a mask
 The tip of my tongue's already touching the top of my mouth
 Its meaning manifest in mercy burning down, burning down
 Burning down, burning down
 Burning down, burning down
 Burning down the house
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 It's true that tactless teem totem-poles turn tolerance to tired taboos
 It's true that a bullet never knocks on the door, it's about to come crashing through
 It's true that tactless teem totem-poles turn tolerance to tired taboos
 It's true that a bullet never knocks on the door, it's about to come crashing through
 I'm walking one last mile in big steps as your alter-wine
 I'm doing it in tattered shoes that aren't even mine
 Because my own are in a box locked up with possessions I can't have
 Like the gunman with his future and the prison priest's golden calf
 Walking one last mile
 Walking one last mile
 Blindfolds aside I'd probably still close my eyes (Walking one last mile...)
 And try to feel a trembling fetal life inside (Walking one last mile...)
 That shotgun barrel that's about to make me bleed
 Like an ulcer in the stomach of the beast
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 Like a little girl on a bed that was years ago deceased
 Resurrected last night with a letter she can't trace
 Like a little girl on a bed that was years ago deceased
 Resurrected last night with a letter she can't trace
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 Resurrected to be killed then maybe born again
 I'll always be Kezia so long as any hope remains
 Resurrected to be killed then maybe born again
 I'll always be Kezia so long as any hope remains
 Resurrected to be killed then maybe born again
 I'll always be Kezia so long as any hope remains