1. |
Purer Form of Pain
03:05
|
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|
I’ve saved a drop of blood for when I truly need it most. To be
distributed among the parasites. To be exchanged for a purer form
of pain. My ribcage will replace a ladder’s rungs, leading me
towards the ceiling of my curse as the earth falls upward from the
ground, where I collapse in sunken skies. I am but one man and
the sorrow I have salvaged won’t sustain. Murder me in the
silence I have lived in. My fingernails won’t hold a torch that
mirrors my reflection. No trace of tension could coerce the
composition from my skull, like currency reserved for skeletons. I
will deny a high regard, sick to my stomach at the distance to the
ground. My ribcage will replace a ladder’s rungs leading you
towards the depth of my despair. We collapse inside the walls the
close before us. Murder me in the silence I have lived in; a
fabrication to appease the ones who suffer. Don’t call me your
protector, I couldn’t keep myself from caving in. Don’t call me
your protector, a war against myself I’ll never win
|
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2. |
Strings of Seperation
02:35
|
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|
Drifting through decaying arteries, repurposing the shell that I
have severed to withstand paralysis. Straining as my eyes lose
the ability to see, displaced by my disease pursuing darkness.
Instinct will carry me across a fragile plain to burn in the
deficiency of sun. Scatter my remains when the flesh withers
away. Remember me for all I failed to be when my misery comes
to an end. Deliver me to a place I’ll never leave, I wish I could feel
safer in my skin. Chiseling my name into the clouds to alleviate
the burden of the dead that wander without direction. Depart
from the existence I’ve denounced, embedded in the souls that I
once lead. Sewing strings of separation in the centre of a storm.
|
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