Are you conscious? Or are you still f**ed?
By design, you still can't figure me out…
By design, you are still riddled with no surge of insight…
On the floor, lied the empty shells of your defenses…
Pray to god you're deaf when the gun goes off…
Will my eyes back to sleep
I seek out the light
And come out blind
My dreams remind
That I am just a vessel
[The Hunter]: “One by one”
“You were born from words, ghosts, crimes
So, I'll take you to hell
Without exit or end…”
It's a war for your soul on every front
My mind in the cross-hairs of some transient gun
All while the world remained unchanged…