They/Him
Cap your laces into submission
I spill my entrails on the floor
A putrid sight a person might argue
But a ghost can't say nothing more
So I beg with the audience to listen again
As if I have a choice
For I make the ghost that I project from within
Resonating my own biased voice
I spill my entrails on the floor
A putrid sight a person might argue
But a ghost can't say nothing more
So I beg with the audience to listen again
As if I have a choice
For I make the ghost that I project from within
Resonating my own biased voice