Testo di Castrate The Wreckage

I found freedom, losing all hope was freedom Self-improve or self-destruct Right in your face, but not visible The tip of your tongue, but you can´t taste Grotesque distortions - dark cyclones Virtual abattoir - sadist´s womb A host to parasites every day and night The need for something more out of life Lost in oblivion dark and silent A fear you cannot smell or taste The endless trance, the muffled cries I await my second birth The secret webs of emotion Spin the threads of self-rejection The secret webs of emotion Safety net for all our pain Castrate the mental wreckage Waste is a thief No antidote for anger Sew the seeds you reap