Your life is nothing You hang on the edge and you cling to existence Your veins run dry You must be honest with yourself The metal connects with pink soft flesh As you neck snaps Yahweh decides to test you Suffering starts the questioning of faith Was it all a waste, precious time now thrown away Crimson haze, your wifes artistic spray Quite decorative, the slight nuances of brain A life is nothing The body is easily broken to pieces Lord tell me why No blood no life thats certain All alone in a meditative state Rising uncertainty, theres no answer when you pray A loving god would disallow this much pain A prankster god has ways to make it worse A devotee but your endings the same Dont you know burning ants is just a game? The quiet, realise Your child is dead You wear the grey face of death As they fight to extend you mortal life The only life youll ever have Bloodstorm Fade away, leave behind the material plane From above you look down, see the bloodstains on the ground No control of your flesh, all fluids want to leave Vomiting as you grieve Bloodstorm Feeding the graves The end of deception will take you away Please do drown You never appreciated your own fragility No time for regrets You wear the grey face of death Slouch in your ooze, honour the dead In your selfmade sordid little Grief hole of vomit and piss The afterlife comes down to this Who would have thought Youd weigh your seconds in gold The gripping cold finally numbs all your pain No tunnel of light Turns out we end up the same Now whos insane? Now whos insane? All alone in a meditative state Rising uncertainty, theres no answer when you pray A loving god would disallow this much pain A prankster god has ways to make it worse A devotee but your endings the same Dont you know burning ants is just a game?
prankster, meditative, bloodstorm, disallow, devotee