The Number Six Lyrics
| Song | The Number Six |
| Artist | Lamb of God |
| Album | Resolution |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Sloth is the enemy of greatness | |
| Reflection a scalpel to my mind. | |
| We strive as you leisurely criticize | |
| A free ride until you find that you've dug your own grave | |
| Lie by lie. | |
| Just a running mouth | |
| Poison words you throw about | |
| Drag you to your end | |
| The number six | |
| Leviathan. | |
| You've dug your own grave with your spite | |
| You've dug your own grave lie by lie | |
| A cancer that needs to be cut out | |
| Sweet slander the razor to your throat | |
| Trim the fat | |
| A loose end to be tied up and cast aside | |
| Left to find that you've dug your own grave. | |
| A relentless imposition by a self-fulfilling travesty | |
| From one who is just rotting there | |
| In slut's wool and zero history | |
| Aesthetic condemning | |
| Erratic condescending | |
| An empty barrel always makes the most noise | |
| And I begin to feel my hands around your throat. | |
| You've dug your own grave with your spite | |
| You've dug your own grave lie by lie | |
| A running mouth and poison words will be your end | |
| The number six | |
| Leviathan. |
| Sloth is the enemy of greatness | |
| Reflection a scalpel to my mind. | |
| We strive as you leisurely criticize | |
| A free ride until you find that you' ve dug your own grave | |
| Lie by lie. | |
| Just a running mouth | |
| Poison words you throw about | |
| Drag you to your end | |
| The number six | |
| Leviathan. | |
| You' ve dug your own grave with your spite | |
| You' ve dug your own grave lie by lie | |
| A cancer that needs to be cut out | |
| Sweet slander the razor to your throat | |
| Trim the fat | |
| A loose end to be tied up and cast aside | |
| Left to find that you' ve dug your own grave. | |
| A relentless imposition by a self-fulfilling travesty | |
| From one who is just rotting there | |
| In slut' s wool and zero history | |
| Aesthetic condemning | |
| Erratic condescending | |
| An empty barrel always makes the most noise | |
| And I begin to feel my hands around your throat. | |
| You' ve dug your own grave with your spite | |
| You' ve dug your own grave lie by lie | |
| A running mouth and poison words will be your end | |
| The number six | |
| Leviathan. |
| Sloth is the enemy of greatness | |
| Reflection a scalpel to my mind. | |
| We strive as you leisurely criticize | |
| A free ride until you find that you' ve dug your own grave | |
| Lie by lie. | |
| Just a running mouth | |
| Poison words you throw about | |
| Drag you to your end | |
| The number six | |
| Leviathan. | |
| You' ve dug your own grave with your spite | |
| You' ve dug your own grave lie by lie | |
| A cancer that needs to be cut out | |
| Sweet slander the razor to your throat | |
| Trim the fat | |
| A loose end to be tied up and cast aside | |
| Left to find that you' ve dug your own grave. | |
| A relentless imposition by a self-fulfilling travesty | |
| From one who is just rotting there | |
| In slut' s wool and zero history | |
| Aesthetic condemning | |
| Erratic condescending | |
| An empty barrel always makes the most noise | |
| And I begin to feel my hands around your throat. | |
| You' ve dug your own grave with your spite | |
| You' ve dug your own grave lie by lie | |
| A running mouth and poison words will be your end | |
| The number six | |
| Leviathan. |
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