I saw my phantom
murked in a hindsight
Smelled the ghost red
rich and empty
Failed in Brooklyn
hell of a nightmare
Woke up guilty
gunning for my conscience
Skin it before it snitches
murked it for the world to breathe
Whittle my blessings
I deserve the lesser god
Rusted dagger sawed off baptismal
separate the sun
Liberate libra apologist
Saw that bleeding when it flirted red
I could have milked it yellow
but I lusted red
