The Betrayers

We are betrayers of perfection

Love spoken from these lips means nothing

All eyes on me

Looking left from right

Pulling poison from petals

Crimson roses corrode

Murder meadow

Death fills your harvest

In fields of blood

Your betrayals stretch for miles

Oh how my hands do shake

Stretched out to receive

The coins sing, as they hit the ground

Oh, how the silver shines in our eyes

We are betrayers of perfection