The Mars Volta - Vicarious atonement

Don't you pretend That I'm not alive My bones never ache Unless she's nearby Where is your face?In a safe of dead tongues I can see your reflection In your totem first born I suspect You've been carry a pack of wolves I regret Not killing you while i had the chance Maybe i will always haunt you Mark the somnolence with truth Better hang your dead palace Than have a living home to lose In the river Ganges, God damns my name Don't let these hands Sharpen your eyes A rasp of tails