| The things you see and believe
|
| The reflection displays quite differently
|
| Dysmorphic impressions held tenaciously
|
| Open your eyes, behold reality
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| If you can bear the disappointment
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| When you see what you truly are
|
| If you can choke back the repulsion
|
| At all of your pustules, buboes, and scars
|
| Dysmorphic — vision of self and state
|
| Honor and compassion, avarice and hate
|
| Dysmorphic — reflection forever barred
|
| Can’t accept what we truly are — dysmorphic
|
| Sickened, you infect all that has occurred
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| With twisted truths and honeyed words
|
| The soothing deceptions you’ve always heard
|
| As you shamble along immured in the absurd
|
| Twisted self-image cultivated
|
| Self-gratifying death mask to hide behind
|
| Dysmorphic animus to turn your eyes from
|
| The rotting truth you would find
|
| Dysmorphic — vision of self and state
|
| Honor and compassion, avarice and hate
|
| Dysmorphic — reflection forever barred
|
| Can’t believe how disgusting we truly are
|
| Dysmorphic — vision, from many one
|
| The truth undone before we begun
|
| Dysmorphic — spawned from slaughter and war
|
| Can’t accept ourselves as we truly are — dysmorphic
|
| Dysmorphic — eyes that cannot, will not see
|
| Dysmorphic — distasteful truths exhumed from your mind’s cemetery
|
| So scrub the blood from your conscience
|
| With a steady stream of comforting lies
|
| Prey-like sheep as you stand ankle-deep
|
| In a river of corpses left behind
|
| Dysmorphic — vision of self and state
|
| Honor and compassion, avarice and hate
|
| Dysmorphic — reflection forever barred
|
| Can’t believe how disgusting we truly are
|
| Dysmorphic — vision, from many one
|
| The truth undone before we begun
|
| Dysmorphic — spawned from slaughter and war
|
| Can’t accept ourselves as we truly are — dysmorphic |