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The Mars Volta - Vicarious Atonement
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Don't you pretend
That I'm not alive
My bones never ache
Unless she's nearby
Where is your face?
In a safe of dead tongues
I can see your reflection
In your totem first born
I suspect you've been carrying
A pack of wolves
A pack of wolves
I regret not killing you while I had the chance
I know I had the chance
I know I had...

Maybe I will always haunt you
Mark the somnolence with truth
Better hang your dead palace
Than have a living home to lose
In the River Ganges, God damns my name

Don't let these hands
sharpen your eyes
A rasp of tails