My hearts been cleaver-hooked
It’s dripping from your crescent moon
Mr Dish and Mr Spoon
Embrace the dark of the silver moon

And I don’t know where to go
And I don’t know where to turn to

I don’t know whom to burn
The twist of deception, the chew and churn
How do I know if it’s what I’ve earned
my hearts ripped open, where do I turn
Where do I turn
Where do I turn
Where do I turn

My mouths been cleaver-hooked
It’s dripping from your crescent moon
Mr Dish and Mr Spoon
Embrace the dark of the silver moon

And I don’t know where to go
And I don’t know who I really know

Limb from limb, I’m to burn
Word for word, the chew and churn
I don’t know what I’ve learned
Mr Dish where do I turn
Mr Spoon where do I turn

Hanged around I swing, side to side I roam
Lost in my own private supernova
Fins flap easily but I need to breath consciously
Textures leave their marks impaled on me
They are impaled on me

My heads been cleaver-hooked
It’s dripping from your crescent moon
Mr Dish and Mr Spoon
Embrace the dark of the silver moon

Mr Dish bursts out, Mr Spoon drowns out
Blankets of cloth wipe the stains from me
Rounded they might be, cleaver-hooked by me
A cocktail stick of old maladies died
Old maladies died
Old maladies died

My hearts been cleaver-hooked
It’s dripping from your crescent moon
Mr Dish and Mr Spoon
Embrace the dark of the silver moon
I just don’t know