Loathe के बोल

Clocks pelt forward, I remain stagnant in this chair, no sound, no sentiment My colorless eyes locked to the mirror reflecting the atrocity before it Every last emotion conjured into a silent, motionless, and cold stare The Sun rises and the Sun falls Outer spirits howl with me in the fires below Still I look into the glass as suicide flows through my blood viscously churning I begin to shake Erase the sickness from the earth I am undeserving, I am misfortune I am undeserving, I am misfortune The curser and the unwilling never to change what I’ve done And I suffer the consequence eternally