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The Emptiness
The Artist

(based on Chapter Two: Sweaty Hands Will Fail To Lock The Door) "The Artist, overwhelmed with panic and paranoia, is convinced that he is being watched and that someone somewhere knows what he's done. Just the sight of Annabel's body begins to blur the lines of fantasy and reality. He controls the urge to run and leans down to kiss her one final time, closing her eyes with the gentle touch of his blood-soaked fingertips. His tortured goodbye plagues his mind and allows the madness to come pouring back with a vengeance. The Artist accepts his fate, hides the body and sets out into the night."




LyricsEdit

What is wrong with her eyes?
A glossy stare that won't leave me be starts my blood running cold.
A gaze that could make hell freeze over.
I have to understand she's gone. But she's not! Don't you tell me that she is dead.
Watch her lips softly move because she's still whispering to me!
And something here is not quite right. Skin so cold beneath my touch as I brush back her hair and close her eyes.
But I cannot stand to turn away.
When I do, she'll be gone.
It's frightening. Sweaty hands will fail to lock the door.
They'll be here soon.
I wish I could keep my teeth from grinding.
I wish I'd stop looking behind me.
Running now will only make it worse.
They'll be here soon.
I wish I could shake the awful feeling.
I wish my mind would stop. Maybe I am crazy and my mind is trying to deceive me.
As the ground vanishes I wonder, will the sky be the next to fail me?
Paint abandons canvas and my brush can't seem to start again from scratch.
As I watch everything unravel, why should I even try to stop the collapse?
I won't! Shaking as I rest her body down.
No one knows, only me.
It's frightening. Sweaty hands will fail to lock the door.
They'll be here soon.
I wish I could keep my teeth from grinding.
I wish I'd stop looking behind me.
Running now will only make it worse.
They'll be here soon.
I wish I could shake the awful feeling.
I wish my mind would stop. Maybe I am crazy and my mind is trying to deceive me.
As the ground vanishes I wonder, will the sky be the next to fail me?
Paint abandons canvas and my brush can't seem to start again from scratch.
As I watch everything unravel, why should I even try to stop the collapse?
Why should I even try to stop to collapse? There's a madman glaring straight at me!
Oh I know I've seen his face before!
I am sure I've seen his face before. Maybe I am crazy and my mind is trying to deceive me.
As the ground vanishes I wonder, will the sky be the next to fail me?
Paint abandons canvas and my brush can't seem to start again from scratch.
As I watch everything unravel, why should I even try to stop the collapse?
I won't!

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