nothing left There will be no one left to peel the guilt from our backs A flaw so fatal to our own survival Failure in the flesh Day by day we cleanse
s nothing left There will be no one left to peel the guilt from our backs A flaw so fatal to our own survival Failure in the flesh Day by day we cleanse
through self-sacrifice Not for themselves, but you, you scab You raid the bodies of the dead You shit-head slimy make it alls With dead meat dripping
Sickle constellations Stud the belts that welt the sky Whilst the bitter winter moon Prowls the cloud, dead-eyed Like shifting parent flesh Under silk
blackened creed, Their god be dead. Bird of omens, Ill harbinger of blight, The raven waits with hatred in his eyes.
s no compassion Breath heavy to pretend it's fun Raise the cover to protect your pride Ignore the failure that you see in the glass Paint the flesh to