Vacate is a word, vengeance has no place so near to her

Cannot find a comfort in this world

Artificial tears, the vessel's stabbed, next up, volunteers

Vulnerable, wisdom can't adhere

A truant finds home

And a will to hold on

There's a trapdoor in the sun

It's immortality

As privileged as a victims in demand for public show

Swept out through the cracks beneath the door

Holier than thou, how, surrendered executed anyhow

Scrawls resolved, cigar box on the floor

A truant finds home

And a will to hold on to

There's a trapdoor in the sun

It's immortality

I cannot stop the thought, of running out the door

Coming up, a which way sign, and all good truants must decide

Oh stripped and sold alone, and an auctioned forearm

And whiskers in the sink

A truant finds home, and a will to hold on to

Some die just to live, oh