Draw me hell as a keepsake

Blood on the canvas dries faster than tears.
Your brushes are broken, fingers in ash.
We danced on glass, forgetting the threats,
Leaving marks on the cold ground.


You are the sculptor of ugliness, creator of emptiness,
Where angels choke on black saliva.
Holy canvases are torn to shreds,
Come on, artist, descend after me.

Припев
Draw me hell as a keepsake!
Crosshatch my sins.
Let the fire melt us,
Turning poems to dust.
Draw me hell as a keepsake!
In red color, the color of veins.
This pain cannot be fixed,
I take your sweet decay.


Whispers under the skin — like a blade's scrape.
Your easel is a scaffold, your genius an executioner.
An unborn wheeze is stuck in the throat,
I love your artificial, plastic cry.


You are the sculptor of ugliness, creator of emptiness,
Where angels choke on black saliva.
Holy canvases are torn to shreds,
Come on, artist, descend after me.

Припев
Draw me hell as a keepsake!
Crosshatch my sins.
Let the fire melt us,
Turning poems to dust.
Draw me hell as a keepsake!
In red color, the color of veins.
This pain cannot be fixed,
I take your sweet decay.


No light. No shadows. Only soot and fear.
We are gods in our personal coffins.
Draw while you breathe. Draw while you are blind.
Our world is just a painted crypt.

Припев
Draw me hell as a keepsake!
Crosshatch my sins.
Let the fire melt us,
Turning poems to dust.
Draw me hell as a keepsake!
In red color, the color of veins.
This pain cannot be fixed,
I take your sweet decay.


As a keepsake...
With ink from the veins.
As a keepsake...
Leave me this decay.