Give me lust, malice and a detached existentialist
Give me rampant intellectualism to cope with all this sh**
Slow down, speed up
Whatever takes d**h long enough to change my skin
But when I'm gone it won't be for long till I'm back in the saddle of sin
Invisible or incapable of love I can't tell which is worse
Accidents or gravity my organs, blood, bones and skin I walk were never my first
All we are is inherited so f**ing toss us to the pigs
Its a head start to the gates of hell
Am I the only one, is this loneliness?
Knife, oh look folks it's a knife in my back by my own hands
Let my blood edge your pool of no f**s giving
Step back, devolve, and mutilate
Wasted and tasted as the crows cry, damn this vulture land
Everything's all eaten up, the wolves are fat, soon to be dead
Just let them lay me down
Like stones that crumble
Wood that rots, we are fragile
A hollow shell that we create
We ate the sh** we hate
I'm becoming what I loathe
I ate myself alive, I hate the taste
We, us vultures serpentine
A loaded circle of defeat
We crave the buried meat
So we now must eat each other
Drug induced western advanced
The hospital, it's for the sick
So put down my brain in the burner
Wasted never tasted anything quite like this
The bitter hunger to survive is why I gave in
Carnage candy, oh your blood is so f**ing sweet
It's damned, deadly and bad for your teeth
Invisible or incapable of love I'll take which I deserve
And the accident that has just occurred was sure no accident
Gravity threw my weight to a blade of darkness to my grave
d**h can you just shed some light
Of Inherited thoughts, this must be shame
Knife, oh look folks there's the knife embedded in my skin
Don't take it out just bury me with all the hell that I've commit
Eyes sewed open to the ground, the back of my head faces the clouds
Because he knows I'm looking at him, knows I'm trouble, knows I'm coming but worst of all he knows where I've been
We, us vultures serpentine
A loaded circle of defeat
Crave the buried meat
Crave the buried meat
Give me lust, malice, detached existentialist
Give me a brain burner to cope with this sh**
Whatever takes d**h long enough to change my skin
When I'm gone, won't be for long, till I'm back in the saddle of sin