Submerged in the scourge I gorge then I purge My pride Not discouraged when the wick’s flame died ‘Cuz my broken window pane Let inside the winds of change Now the dust The dirt Disgust The hurt’s Quickly brushed of the shirt And blown throughout my home And personal sanctuary Then placed in the cemetery Barely back from the wake of the buried But the sight of vacant eyes will never scare me My daily walks amongst the living dead have well prepared me And rarely do I encounter a character who can counter my theories Lately I live the life of a loner and let none near me Clearly these people ponder a way to author their slaughter Slit wrists Colorless in bath water
Yeah the clock doesn’t stop a single tick When the soul and its rotting flesh split And the former slips away While the later half basks in decay The day starts as the sunrays embark On their routine excursion illuminating the dark And all the fiendish perversions in which we take part Along with all the beauty and the bliss On this slowly turning granite balanced on it’s slanted axis Consider the magnificence of we’re given access Desire and action The key to unlock the unknown Spaces on this atlas And within these fleshy cages Before our own collapses and succumbs Let these pages which are ageless carry with them what we’ve practiced