Chapter 8 : Like a moth drawn to a flame
Like a moth drawn to a fla(me),
what will I be(come).
Set my mind afl(utter)
the words that slap me a(wake),
it's not a funeral but I'm al(ready)
Dying on the in(side)
with the (right)eous,
there is no (just)ice
an empty (feel)ing.
my world col(lapse)
into depths obs(cure),
there is (n(o)ne)
just a h(eat).
like a moth drawn to a fl(âme).