| Solitary slithering thru the annals of the past
|
| Little peace in little leagues when succubus-ting my ass off
|
| Trying to pretend I understand
|
| Trying to defend that view
|
| That’ll never make sense
|
| Never be that of my own tongue
|
| I could never rise up
|
| I could never be comprehending the fact
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| That the ways of the leech
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| Were never meant for the likes of me
|
| When existence is torn between living or
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| Dying for soul celibacy
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| Consuming, concluding a need to align
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| And warmth of embracing consumption is wise
|
| When weekends pass swiftly and weekdays does not
|
| You’re caught in a trench of a lifeless unending rot
|
| There’s another fluke today
|
| There’s another trend that will send
|
| Just another sad soul to make his amends
|
| There’s another hole to fill
|
| There’s another pit
|
| There is always someone content feeding at the foot of the hill
|
| Predicament isn’t it?
|
| A birth of whoredom thru boredom
|
| When the day belongs to the dull
|
| The verdict rules to cull
|
| If by chance you’re prepared to be served
|
| A big steaming pile of nothing from a murder of crows
|
| As unyielding as the rise of the undead
|
| Then in masses come gather — It’s time you are fed!
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| Obey!
|
| And start carving away
|
| Piece by piece… this mission can’t fail
|
| It’s of fabric begotten and plagued by mere ills
|
| A testament for grinding them bones for meager thrills
|
| Crossed and pissed and fully devoured
|
| Crossed and pissed and fully devoured
|
| Crossed and pissed and somewhat deflowered
|
| credits
|
| from New Level of Malevolence, released 29 May 2015 |