Recless abandon (and suggestions on the matter)

::Verse1::
We are the dying art of reserection,
breathin' breath into death
like life of a knife
carved to perfection on this very night
when the moon-silver lined our lungs

::Chourus::
do me a favor
cover my mouth,
before you blow my brains out
if i say im ur savior,
will u hang me on a cross
with cyanine its bullet lined
and on u it looks so posh

::Verse 2::
death is a fashion statement
and caskets are my trend
so shope tilll ya drop
dead in your bed
when ur bathing in lies that ur mother said,
and screams only tangle what you've spun.