Just because you don’t understand the world, doesn’t mean it doesn’t make any fucking sense. A voice of malice, broadcast wide, so turn their heads. They’re listening, why? No one learned a thing, the burdens weight they bring. We’ve got a banquet, it’s in honor of the people we missed. We found her head shaved, a book of letters, signed with a kiss. These are the people we marry, these are the scars we carry. You’re a worthless veil of rude remarks and poorly timed anecdotes. You’re a fucking burden, that no one understood. I can’t bring myself to listen to this vice that malice brought. If you’ve got an ounce of hate in your heart, ask yourself what the fuck are you so afraid of? "and if being gay is the ultimate sin, then fuck it, call me a faggot too!” Fuck you. I am the writing on the wall. The letters big, black, bold and tall. But no one’s saving you. When you were buried, the bridges burned remained ashes in filth. Great lies, faux lives. You do this all just to find a light. Great lies, faux lives. 6 feet deep in filth and bile. So vile, so vile. You do this all to find a light. Great lies, faux lives. Constant hate surely not worthwhile. The hatchet was buried deep in my back. Live. Burden. You. Bury.
Track Name: Robespierre
I may not be a preacher, but a bastard with a spoken mind. Deep thoughts stay repressed, find a way for me to stay possessive. I don’t know who lit these candles in my house. It might be me, infested with doubt. I guess it’s time to put on my black suit, and maybe then I’ll learn to deal with the bad news. My mind is a wandering whore, on these fucking streets, begging for more. My mind is a wandering whore, on the streets, begging for more. Guillotine mirror, speak to me, for the path we chose, was filled with burning leaves. Grieving world, demented peace. A script of love, a pointless plea. Divorce papers, the plot that bleeds. The medicine that made us ill. Skin and stone, marriage greed. So rest assured, they will bleed. Watch your fall.