Towers of ruins are standing tall, towards a gray and wrathful sky Derelict stoups dirty with drool, can’t satisfy the thirst of mice
Inhale the fever
The walls of cry do crumble down, fulfilling lungs with abrasive ash On wounded knees, the time is now, to curve the back to the stash
No bulwark there to spurn the slugs, drained by the scorching sun Leaving a trail they crawl and tug, more and more stunned, no longer shun
Inhale the fever, now In a line of lepers, now
I’ll stand in line before the ministry I’ll stand in line for my soul to save I’ll stand in line, but still I’m consumed By pain and regret, it’s killing me
Inhale the fever
Preserved bodies prone to worship, wedged between bricks and mould Crusts of blood poison the surface, angrily stuck to the power they hold
Rusted chalices on forsaken altars, kept precious fluids for the wretched Strong statues stagger and falter, when their resoluteness gets banished
Inhale the fever, now In a line of lepers, now
I’ll stand in line before the ministry I’ll stand in line for my soul to save I’ll stand in line, but still I’m consumed By pain and regret, it’s killing me
Inhale the fever, now
The creatures of the sunrise are fading in the night Shade by shade they vanish, a process that is trite The creatures of the sunrise have been fading in the night Abhorring the blinding starlight that erode their very life
Children, disgusting children, deformed and helpless Off the womb of sanctity Children, repulsive children, reborn from filth Animus disguised as mercy
Inhale the fever, now
Inhale the fever, now In a line of lepers, now
I’ll stand in line before the ministry I’ll stand in line for my soul to save I’ll stand in line, but still I’m consumed By pain and regret, it’s killing me
Inhale the fever, now In a line of lepers, now
I’ll stand in line before the ministry I’ll stand in line for my soul to save I’ll stand in line, but still I’m consumed By pain and regret, it’s killing me