| Sloth is the enemy of greatness
|
| Reflection, a scalpel to my mind
|
| We strive as you leisurely criticize
|
| A free ride until you find that
|
| You’ve dug your own grave, lie by lie
|
| Just a running mouth
|
| Poison words you throw about
|
| Drag you to your end
|
| The number six
|
| Leviathan
|
| You’ve dug your own grave with your spite
|
| You’ve dug your own grave, lie by lie
|
| A cancer that needs to be cut out
|
| Sweet slander the razor to your throat
|
| Trim the fat
|
| A loose end to be tied up and cast aside
|
| Left to find that you’ve dug your own grave (with your spite)
|
| Just a running mouth
|
| Poison words you throw about
|
| Drag you to your end
|
| The number six
|
| Leviathan
|
| Poison words you throw about
|
| Drag you to your end
|
| The number six
|
| Leviathan
|
| A relentless imposition by a self-fulfilling travesty
|
| From one who is just rotting there
|
| In slut’s wool and zero history
|
| Aesthetic condemning
|
| Erratic condescending
|
| An empty barrel always makes the most noise
|
| And I begin to feel my hands
|
| My hans around your throat
|
| You’ve dug your own grave with your spite
|
| You’ve dug your own grave, lie by lie
|
| Just a running mouth
|
| Poison words you throw about
|
| Drag you to your end
|
| The number six
|
| Leviathan
|
| Poison words you throw about
|
| Drag you to your end
|
| The number six
|
| Leviathan
|
| You’ve dug your own grave
|
| You’ve dug your own grave
|
| The number six
|
| Leviathan
|
| You’ve dug your own grave
|
| A running mouth (you've dug your own grave)
|
| And poison words (you've dug your own grave)
|
| Will be your end
|
| The number six
|
| Leviathan |