Golden Antlers

Look at this poor boy all dressed up in white

Now how can he smile

With a face of all eyes

He wanders thin ice

Through sneers and word snide

Spinning round and round his precious mind

Like dizzy neon highs

Can anybody find out

Any other way

It's chocking up his throat now

And dripping out his mouth

And liquifying dying sparks

Like burning butterflies

His creatures are vampires

They're killing by the night

They're falling from the dead trees

To silhouette your life

He sees his white face

Brains lit grey and cold

Trees grow in their throats

And crystals ignored

His cellophane mask

Has filled up with smoke

Look through the holes in his eyes and see his red righteous soul

Can anybody find out

Any other way

It's chocking up his throat now

And dripping out his mouth

These creatures are vampires

They're killing by the night

They're hanging from the dead trees

Like burning butterflies