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From Angels to Ashes
The rain falling from the Heavens tastes like her tears
The flowers in my hand smell like her hair
The wind whispering her name in the distance I can still vaguely hear
As I kneel besides Tomorrow’s tombstone and send out an unpromising prayer
One last leaf remains dangling from the dying tree
I can’t help but hope that it’s some sort of sign showing that she’s managed to survive
The only place I ever see her face anymore is in the magazines and on TV
Ever since Hollywood took her hostage and the red carpet swallowed her alive
She smiles for the camera and cries behind the curtain
Outside the sun can be shining, but there are always silver screen storms inside of her head
I’ve never claimed to know it all, but there’s one thing that I know for certain:
If she doesn’t escape from her corrupted California cage soon…she’s going to end up dead
It’s such a shame that her fame is to blame for whatever she became
The serpents and sinners start to salivate as Satan’s betraying bell sounds its final call
Southern California spontaneously combusts into gray infernal flames
As that last lonely leaf starts to forever freefall
