Slow days Slow words Slow lies Slow ends So many years to clean the slate Endless despair within its wake His touch soiling what used to be clean His gaze burning on the edge of our dreams no more Slow pain Slow d**hs And again he rides in, it's September and he covets the gullible Skeletal wish Hunter A thousand lies, cast from the throne of secrecy Hear him spewing forth meaning to miserable lies See the twisted hand of doubt seal the affair The insect trust Believer Your body a vehicle to house his disease Pearls before swine they are nothing but blind Submit to nothing and swallow my spit of scorn Invisible king Dying Procession of woe, struck down by sorrow A burden so great weighs heavy on old and withered beliefs The swift solution crumbles beneath the mock notes of a masterpiece d**h in his eyes Waiting Spiraling judgement, provoked in the rains This futile test drowned in the levee of deception In the year of his sovereign Rid us of your judgement Heir apparent