““You won’t be sleeping too long/ You’ll pack up your things before dawn” /
“We’ll burn through your sheets / As you hear us scream /
Scratching burning crosses on our heads” /
Then they see the angels / And all their bloody deaths / Lent to burning crosses on their heads / As they run out the door, we appear through the floor, ghosts forevermore / Scratching burning crosses on our heads…”
– Trophy Scars, ‘Gutted’