Syringe (Purple Poison)

She's become addicted
to what lurks in the chamber
It's a beast that lies to her
and says that it loves her.
A purple poison inside
concocted of sweet fear
and bleeding souls
and it laughs as she cries

She falls asleep in dripping weeds
Knowing not of where she's been
The poison makes her flesh decay
and she wonders if she'll die someday
An empty chamber, sickly sweet
The poison's masochistic fleet
She can't control it anymore
This syringe is her savior

She prefers to think
that it has kept her warm
instead of admitting
that it's rotted her to the core
All she wants is to get away
but the beast won't let her go
And her heart leaks the poison
dripping onto the keys of the harpsichord.