heal yourself Flesh bodies mute and blinded roaming uncertain, lost infected misinformed Releasing a black enormous insect out from the chest archaic form disease Esoteric
heal yourself Flesh bodies mute and blinded roaming uncertain, lost Infected misinformed Releasing a black enormous insect out from the chest Archaic from disease Esoteric
I Have Within Me, This Knowledge The Darkness Within That None Should Ever Touch And In The Machinations Of Cosmos I Appeared, Centuries Before My
Night surrounds me, As I sit alone, In the indecipherable darkness. I smell the noise of past. Vivacity of the wind begets clear my mind. In eternal
Internal images, Scattered within translucent thought. Order amongst the chaos of the psyche. The external dilapidation, A tribute to their world
Born unto a bastard nation, The dying remnants of our breed. Aura's of,an ancient past, Of those that knew so long before.... But time goes on...
So much to live, Yet the yearning for death, Perpetual in my mind. To end the pain. I wait for time to show me my path, The continuum or the end
[instrumental]
Windows of shattered dreams. Laid out before me. My broken reflection hauntingly stares back, As once again I pick up the pieces of my mind. Rebuilding
They look through their rose-coloured glasses, At the beauty of the world. They're so blind and fucking ignorant, That love's all they see. Any sorrow
Rage intensifies my desire for revenge. Hatred flowing in my blood. My veins expand to release the pure, unbridled, abhoration. For those who interfere
Throughout our childhood, we live in fear. Of all that we hear, never-ending tears: Ignorance so absolute, within their minds so small. Into the depths
"He that is slow to believe anything and everything is of great understanding, for belief in one false principle is the beginning of all unwisdom."
Inside and around I see misery, suffering. A new level of depth for my depression. Thought I could only climb from now. Unable to see below its depths
'Tis but a fucking grey day for me now. One that I care not to meet. Wherefore is this grey fucking day, That I should sit in here now? Now of all times
[Music - Gordon 10/1992] [Lyrics - Greg 7/1991]
I look back at nothing, Questioning my singulation for pain. The torment, the tears that flowed. Living my death every day. Seeing my death and fantasising
Bereft promises made unto me, I always remember watching them fade. Upon winds of blackened torment, The promises' I couldn't see. For they are just
