The Manual Heart

I’ve swallowed the key so the door is a permanent scar I’m counting the miles from my ribs to the nearest star. I’ve turned my pulse into a dead-end street Where the shadows and the ghosts finally get to meet. It’s a velvet-lined coffin, it’s a kingdom of "none" I’m the only one left standing when the damage is done. Connection is a chemical, a glitch in the design I’m pulling out the stitches just to keep the border line. Hold the light. Fade to white. Welcome to the wreckage, the museum of my own ghost! I’m the hollowed-out king and the invisible host. I’ve built a monument out of the things I couldn't keep And now the silence is a mountain that’s getting too steep! I’m a reflex of the distance, I’m a tenant of the wall I’ve made a home in the middle of a beautiful fall! Whoa-oh-oh! I’ve automated every breath, a manual machine That keeps the blood from staining everything I’ve kept clean. You’re a breach in the static, you’re a light in the wire But I’d rather freeze in silence than survive the fire. I’m a masterpiece of absence, I’m a glitch in the frame I’ve deleted the parts that still remember your name. If I let the fever in, the cathedral starts to shake I’ve spent a lifetime building what I’m terrified to break! THE LOCK IS THE CURE! THE VOID IS THE PUREST PART! I’m a masterpiece of nothing with a manual heart! Welcome to the wreckage, the museum of my own ghost! I’m the hollowed-out king and the invisible host. I’ve built a monument out of the things I couldn't keep And now the silence is a mountain that’s getting too steep! I’m a reflex of the distance, I’m a tenant of the wall I’ve made a home in the middle of a beautiful fall! The manual machine is slowing down. The borders are safe. The borders are sound.