Vacate is the word
Vengeance has no place on me or her
Cannot find the comfort in this world
Artificial tear
Vessel stabbed, next up, volunteers?
Vulnerable, wisdom can't adhere

A truant finds home and a will to hold on
But there's a trapdoor in the sun
It's immortality…

As privileged as a whore
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 onto
There's a trapdoor in the sun

It's immortality...

I cannot stop the thought running out the door
Coming up a which way sign
All good truants must decide
Oh, stripped and sold, mom…
Auctioned forearm and whiskers in the sink
Truants move on, cannot stay long
Some die just to live…
Oh…