| In my head all I think about is death |
| My suffering eternal, wounds infernal |
| Misery keeps calling me, inflicting me, deeper and deeper |
| Deeper and deeper, ecstatically eager |
| I’m burning my body to set forth the reaper |
| Suffocate in the black, a sanctitude of sick for me and you |
| Crippling to the will of hatred |
| No salvation to run to |
| We all suffer in a cycle built and bound to claim us all |
| Scraping through the agony we suffer so religiously |
| Save me |
| Devour me alive or just gut me with a knife |
| Nothing I can do will ever rid you of my life |
| Every breath is agony, and all I know is |
| THERE’S NO WAY OUT |
| It writhes its way in |
| Left to rot alone again |
| Shackled by the chains of my own disdain |
| Misery my company, endless agony consumed by the wounds which inflict me |
| Of all the wounds that cover me, none of them more burdening |
| Than the hole in which the pain inside resides eternally |
| Crawling in my skin |
| Immeasurable torture |
| Hollow heart |
| Sunken and aching empty soul |
| Devoid of hope |
| My body is not whole |
| Death stands in front of me |
| Ridding me of all I see |
| No more pain and misery |
| The reapers gift has set me free |
| Full of sin |
| Iʼm pulling back my skin |
| Tearing out my organs and exposing all the hate I’ve kept within |
| Creeping, bleeding, seething, weeping |
| Bury me alive, in a coffin full of knives |
| Suffocating sickened cycles left me seeking out the scythe |
| I yearn to feel peace once again |
| Iʼd rather die than live like this |