Zed And Two Naughts in The Mars Volta

I'm not breathing any better
My lips crack with every grin
I hear the scraping plea of branches against my broken window
Why do I let you in?

The silhouette holds me under
Can't poke me with these pins
Flotsam drip of nectar, a nexus bean sprouting
When she says

Saint Christopher, don't go wandering
With no one left to save, cause no one's at the wheel
Saint Christopher, don't go wandering
With no one left to save, cause no one's at the wheel
Saint Christopher

Antidote claps with thunder
From a gash of stable rain
This bed will never rest you, the answers in the summons
Why do I let you in?

The skulking fits the crown and
A wasted dust of kin
Repulsion turns to nectar when pigment leaves the body
When she says

Saint Christopher, don't go wandering
With no one left to save, cause no one's at the wheel
Saint Christopher, don't go wandering
With no one left to save, cause no one's at the wheel
Saint Christopher

First born pray and first born con
Crawling like an animal
Hold your breath, it's feeding time
In this zed and two naughts
In this zed and two naughts

Painted a fulcrum of caves piled with dreams of
Bantam masters made of pastures
Labryinths turning, cystic maze

I've been hanging wreathes of cancer
On every door where children sing
Watch it all blister
Watch it all blister

Saint Christopher, don't go wandering
With no one left to save, cause no one's at the wheel
Saint Christopher, don't go wandering
With no one left to save, cause no one's at the wheel
Saint Christopher, don't go wandering
With no one left to save, cause no one's at the wheel
Saint Christopher, don't go wandering
With no one left to save, cause no one's at the wheel
Saint Christopher