the tragic comedy divine paints the way to peace of mind leaving shallow lovers far behind past uncertainties combine bringing tears to sleepless eyes memory runs the course of time blood runs cold beyond the violet prison for violent visions and so the broken record plays as you throw us away we re never enough we re drowning in clichs so desperate to love we re twisting every word they say so we sleep through the days within the heat of passion s war lust is spilled upon the floor staining red the wasted metaphor the selfish need for something more claws in vain at closing doors scarring faces once adored tracing circles in  the violet prison for violent visions and so the broken record plays as you throw us away we re never enough we re drowning in clichs so desperate to love we re twisting every word they say so we sleep through the days1