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Tons of blood swallowed before nausea. |
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Finally I've learned from frustration. |
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My isolation, I'm forced to hide, |
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While you're observing. |
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But you mean nothing, now you're useless. |
|
Time of my reprisal, |
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For you're nothing, weightless scumbag, weightless scumbag. |
|
Peel slowly and see a new dimension of my reprisal. |
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Become now the feeding flesh, the holy spirit of my own frustration. |
|
Naked knife absolution. [Repeat 3x] |
|
I've burnt the altar you caught me in. |
|
I'm a restless machine. |
|
Tasting with nausea, |
|
Reaching for relief in a bulimic state. |
|
Irony of the torture machine. |
|
You're naked in front of my screen. |
|
You're the food on the edge of my knife. |
|
A shining knife reflecting a deranged smile. |
|
Handling the blade that I won't bleed. |
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Inexorable awareness of misery. |
|
Shall I reach that forgotten relief? |
|
I cross my path of torment |
|
While I'm tearing you limb from limb. |
|
Sickening infection. |
|
Path made of frustration. |
|
Experiment the torture. |
|
Naked knife absolution. |
|
Naked knife absolution. |
