|
A soul broken, an empty shell |
|
Rusty knife cuts your infantile dreams |
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From the bowels of the world depraved |
|
Slow abortion that never ends |
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Disgusting rituals of spawning hope |
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Expected answer in musty words |
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His dead tongue is like an umbilical cord |
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Through which they sip sick visions |
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Suppressed are crippled thoughts |
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Torn into shreds weak belief |
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Emanating in twisted images |
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Fearing to be divided |
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No cure for this disease |
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Devouring from the inside |
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Shining jewel, a thing of pride |
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Turns into ashes trampled down |
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A soul borken, an empty grave |
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And only blackness here so cold around |
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Torn into shreds weak belief |
|
There's no place for eternal rest |
