Virtue is lostnBeyond this sleek veneernBeneath the neon existencenHer face is grey, and everything she longs for turns to blacknThe chemicals bring little vindication and white lines lace every vein,nDoes she realise what she has become?nBut she’s not waking and she’s still failingnBut she’s not wakingnShe’s still failingnFollow the sirens’ song to face this empty cyclenSearching the darkest nightsnSearching the silencenAnd does it make you sick?n“Can you hear me, is she conscious?”nDoes it make you feel beautiful?nBloodshed under the streetlightnAnd does it make you sick?n“Oh god we’ve got a bleeder here”nDoes it make you beautiful?nHeartbreak under the streetlightnShe’s lost againnAdrenalin strains corrupted arteriesnVirtue is lostnBeyond this sleek veneernBeneath the neon existence nHer face is grey, and everything she longs for is pulling awaynFollow the Sirens’ song to face this empty cyclenSearching the darkest nightsnSearching the silencenDead by first lightnThey can’t wipe the blood from her eyesnDead by first lightnn