Seizures
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Looks like this place
Is another living hell.
That's what she said
And as they weep
For the sake of mankind,
I am playing god again.
Messengers of pestilence
Are praising their downfall,
On the streets
Which have been paved
With our misery,
Still counting the days.
Paraphrasing,
Evoking for all the world to see
What's meant to be compassionate
And despite all of your lies
There are enough reasons
To despise your fucking lives,
Responding to this attitude
While grieving for human destination,
Thee who are nourished with hatred
Still walk this earth,
In reminiscence of the deceased.
Disaffected chants perpetuate,
Another contagion
And we are forced to impede,
Imminent loss of this thing
They call appreciation,
Still having the blood on our hands
Of each one who couldn't hold out any longer.
Any longer.
Being just rejected persons
Within an impersonate world,
Our voices are sore
And our hearts are wrecked.
This is the sound of
Head on concrete.
This is the sound of
Head on concrete.