|
(Musick & Lyrixxx - Matt Harvey) |
|
Scalpels cleave and reave though crimson rivulets |
|
Weaving their cold and malignant minuets |
|
Carving out funereal figures in arcane alphabets |
|
Scars that will never heal or forget... |
|
Like puzzle pieces, set askew, you've come undone |
|
The bleeding is ceaseless, you're turning blue, the end had begun |
|
Set down in writing, flesh, blood and bone, let death be done |
|
The pen is as mighty as the sword, sticks or stones, your end would be cast |
|
in stone, by either one... |
|
(Lead - Mike) |
|
Tenderly thanatographical threads are tread and traced |
|
Boiling blood will serve to warm this cold clinical embrace |
|
A clean precise cut to mark this morbid meeting place |
|
This knife - point where you and death came face to face... |
|
The slab starts to spin around and around, as I take your hand in mine |
|
We move step by step within, without so much as a sound, death's dark design |
|
in time |
|
A slice to the left, then cut back to the right, movements scripted in this |
|
dance of the dead |
|
Motions so deft, recalled by touch not by sight, footprints encrypted by |
|
blood running red... |
|
A pirouette on razor's edge leaves you breathless |
|
The slab plays host to an incisive macabre ballet |
|
A savage, slicing slaughter of the senses |
|
Now splayed... |
|
UNDER THE KNIFE - your death hangs in the balance, on the edge of the blade |
|
REMEMBER EVERY SLICE - of this jigsawed demise, and every part that I payed |
|
COLD STEEL BURNS LIKE ICE - leaves you dancing on nothing, loosed by |
|
unsteady hands |
|
UNDER THE KNIFE - The caress of steel, just before the end... |
|
Just before the end... |
|
(Lead - Matt) |
|
A bleeding patchwork design, in running scarlet writ |
|
Connected wounds intersecting from slit to bloody slit |
|
Such a tangled web of shreds and scars I've knit |
|
The liquid of life, leaks out through the red at your wrists... |
|
May I have this last dance? As I take your last breath |
|
With a final flick of my wrist |
|
... |
|
UNDER THE KNIFE - your death hangs in the balance, on the edge of the blade |
|
REMEMBER EVERY SLICE - of this jigsawed demise, and every part that I payed |
|
COLD STEEL BURNS LIKE ICE - leaves you dancing on nothing, loosed by |
|
unsteady hands |
|
UNDER THE KNIFE - The caress of steel, just before the end... |
