Grave insomnia has now obtained my strung out mind. Robbed
of the one place that gives me solitude from them. I must now
face the perfected madness that will eat me as I'm slowly turning
into what I dread.
Deprived of sight, my introverted eyes guides my awake steps into
sinfulness. Profane is the soul purpose here, I know it and still I
let my inner steer me.
I am becoming the infestation, now it's clear what I intend to do
As I reach the house of god I'll take and keep my price forever.
Render my prey as I descend, render my prey.
Web of cords stretched from heel to throat. With Iron ropes I
strap him down and hard. The blood in my plams shimmers with
the rust. Caught in a lonesome sermon he never saw me come.
Dragged out from his abode, a robe of the fallen now bestowed.
Useless struggling for it's not my mind that drives my actions
It is clearly a non human authority.
Solo: O'Brien
Candles of a thousand not lit by hands of man. In my blinded
darkness, lights my depraved path.
Where's my solace, this deed gave me no fractions of inner peace
Although I know I have him alive, a purpose I dear not quest for
nor implement.
Through serpent eyes I watch my hands do carnal damage
as they hung him up, swinging from the ceiling upside down.
Render my prey as I descend, render my prey
Web of cords stretched from heel to throat. With Iron ropes I
strap him down and hard. The blood in my plams shimmers with
the rust. Caught in a lonesome sermon he never saw me come
