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Oh, little figures that toil under weather and sun |
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Your backbreaking labor is earning you nothing but hopes undone |
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Here nothing is sacred; what pride there is left will not hold |
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The price of your failure is shown in the trinkets that weigh you down |
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I'm swimming in obscenity that gives me not one second's peace |
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Mirror all my faults and flaws, crack jokes at all that |
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I'm made of |
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Weeping in our restless sleep, we're dreaming of lucidity and peace |
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All good withers and dies |
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We seized it all, only to let go |
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The empty winners drowning in the flow |
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We are all forlorn |
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Riddle is solving itself as |
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I kneel and devour |
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The strength of the terror will never relieve you of crawling on |
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Small voices are prying at secrets |
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I don't want to share |
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Pathetic and sweet, all remorse is cut off with the leech that bleeds me |
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All good withers and dies in our hands |
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We seized it all, only to let go |
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The empty sinners drowning in the flow |
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I'm swimming in obscenity that gives me not one second's peace |
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Mirror all my faults and flaws, crack jokes at all that |
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I'm made of |
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The silent heartstone at my feet: we're gagged and bound and incomplete |
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Nothing holds in what we are, our filth and greed has come too far |
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Ten letters on my stony bed to witness every mouthful fed ' |
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Cause I am the one who will rip you apart |
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So die |
