Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Psycroptipath, artist - Psycroptic. Album song The Isle of Disenchantment, in the genre
Date of issue: 31.12.1999
Record label: Psycro
Song language: English
Psycroptipath |
Mentally he’s screaming as his life drives him insane |
-Psycroptipath |
Judgement reigns upon him from those higher in the chain |
-Psycroptipath |
Urges burning deep inside to go against the grain-Psycroptipath |
They take it all away, those drones who control his life |
Programmed to deaden his soul |
Those dressed in suits taking hold |
Masters of his life, though only nine 'til five |
Day is just as the night, each day as it ends, it is only the start |
Returning from that place, he again becomes alive |
Enters a place called home, to rest his bones |
Turns to his music device, brings it to life |
It fills him- soothes his soul |
Hears the blast, feels the beat, soaks in grind- cleans his mind |
Echoes the scream, grips his seat, feels his heart-beat faster |
He’s so warm-but unstable-his rhythms changed-a beat unleashed |
Something’s flowing ten-fold when he does this every night |
-Adrenaline |
Over-active substance makes reality insane-Psycroptipath |
Blindly he’s controlled by fluid flowing in his veins-Unnaturally |
Mentally he’s swimming in a psychopathic dream- Psycroptipath |
Now a summoning, seduced by a stirring, revenge is his mask |
Feels the dark urges to kill, it excites him so |
He will not be calm, until he sees the flow |
Leaves his home and slips into the darkened nighttime |
Prowls the streets intends to find some suited satans |
His moments of insanity are still directed |
Revenge is his motive and he knows his target |
He sees two demons- leaving their day-nest |
Their place for torture- paid for their pleasure |
Controlling hundreds- gods in the daylight |
A dark alley beckons- they answer its call |
His breath quickens- as does his heart |
Upon them in an instant, knife in his hand |
Reaction so slow- rips them to shreds |
Now their time- expired- they wasted life- dimmed lights- |
Now they’re essentially- powerless |
Flesh carved from the bones, insides exposed |
Wished he’d heard them moan, he saw them bleed |
Now he feels so mentally drained |
Flow has stopped now revenge is attained |
He starts stumbling in the direction of his home |
His mind is in pieces but he still feels so complete |
He must rest soon his body is weakening |
Temporarily ruined by his mental state |
As he returns home his mind is back in reality |
And the judgement he inflicted is now coursing through his mind |
Turns in over in his head as he does this every night |
When he gets high from aural infliction of that pounding music |
He knows what he does is wrong though it feels right |
But he will never feel guilt for in his mind- he is the victim |