Pet Helmets

Dancing in ritual invoke the spirits of salt. In rains down Upon your head, it's your fault. Flooding the planes to make all things concealed. And shield from mine eyes the devils and our deals. Crawling throughout a corrosive landscape. Wrapped in muriatic nightmares, dissolving and draped. Running away, following, trying to catch the white rabbit. Only to pet it too hard, dying as soon as you grab it. In an utterance of cries that echo In faint, Between walls of the valley, with distress I paint. And its streaks run down like hydrochloric rain Eroding all things that are, into nothing but stains Remnants of the rabbit, caressed through decay Make us a swarm of blowflies, I long not to stay We need only to open our eyes, no lids, compounded See beneath acidic oceans to something, never found it Too much of the same shit, just dressed in different thread. But the core flavour is the same, taste the arsenic of my head...