Text: Seether. Immortality.

Vacate is a word
Vengeance has no place so near to her
Cannot find a comfort
In this world

Artificial tears
The vessel's stabbed
Next up, volunteers
Vulnerable, wisdom can't adhere

A truant finds home
And a will to hold on
There's a trapdoor in the sun
It's immortality

As privileged as a whore
Victims in demand for public show
Swept out through the cracks
Beneath the door

Holier than thou, how?
Surrendered, executed anyhow
Scrawls dissolved
Cigar box on the floor

A truant finds home
And a will to hold on to
There's a trapdoor in the sun

It's immortality

I cannot stop the thought
Running out the door
Coming up a which way sign
And all good truants must decide

Oh, stripped and sold, mom
And an auctioned forearm
And whiskers in the sink

A truant finds home
And a will to hold on to
Some die just to live, oh