Unofferable

Tell me a lie, I'll be the first to fall. Give me an offer Unofferable. Imagine the war, In those tiny hands, That held onto a penance, I didn't deserve. Don't it feel like a knife, In the back of your head? And it reeks like an afterthought, rotten, unsaid. Maybe something got lost or forgotten instead. And I'm bound by a drunk, With a few memories, Of how you burn through your lovers, Like an ugly disease. Give me an offer unofferable. That held onto a penance I didn't deserve. And it reeks like an afterthought, rotten, instead, Maybe something got lost or forgotten unsaid.