| The lips are red and the mouth is dead, dear
|
| The valium shows, the feast will soon attract the crows
|
| The light won’t reach where the darkness preaches
|
| My tongue is near, just lick it — feel no fear
|
| Come — time to grab the gun
|
| Come — we’ll get this done
|
| Noise cuts
|
| Stabs the darkest, sickest parts of you
|
| White noise cuts through
|
| The eyes are dead and the grounds are red here
|
| The marrows break, the saints will never stop to shake
|
| No bliss will find what your demons can bind
|
| My world is here, just enter — shed no tear
|
| Come — time to grab the gun
|
| Come — we’ll get this done
|
| Noise cuts
|
| Stabs the darkest, sickest part of you
|
| White noise cuts through
|
| Noise cuts
|
| It carves like razors in me too
|
| Black noise haunts you
|
| We shall all be discarded, we shall all despair
|
| We shall all be departed and none will care
|
| We are the last things you will see
|
| In the violence, in the Devil’s lair
|
| And the scarabs will eat you clean
|
| In the silence, in the thin black air
|
| Noise cuts
|
| Stabs the darkest, sickest part of you
|
| White noise cuts through
|
| Noise cuts
|
| It carves like razors in me too
|
| Black noise haunts you
|
| Come — time to grab the gun
|
| Come — the hunt has just begun
|
| Come — we’ll get this done |