I am your disease,
every time I come around you vanish me
in every cry whimper or sneeze
I am the ****** in side your head
you are to scared to embrace
I am the horns of the devil
and the smile upon the angels face
I am the dream you cant control
I am the drug that makes you go

we've turned into the monster
that we fought not to be
deep in a darkened whole
black eyes no longer see

burning bridges
perceptive imperfection
a left hand turn
in the right direction

I am your release
everything you want you take from me
echoing your disease
all you are and all you will ever be

elapse relapse reprise your demise
I am the horns of the devil redesigned
objects perplex reflect there subjects
I'm the smile upon the angels face

you are the moral in my dark soul
the purpose to be found
a voice tells you to let go
it's more beautiful 6 feet underground

laying in bed dreams of voluntary aggression
upon waking disappointing depression
or are we being naive now, thought dissection
deflect suspect rejects, infection perfection


who will even see the things we create
think it's great to annihilate the whole human race
debilitating thoughts not knowing how to feel
like naive dogs lost without there master

treasure pain, because without pain
there is no pleasure hit the main vain
insanly refrain from the mundain strain
bane lame thoughts plains of blood stains

I'm asking not knowing what is real
conditions of contradiction & elusive entities
entanglement of putrid bodies
in a mind stricken by poverty