Vortex - 11724 کے بول

Children of sworn malice, creatures of white dust Reveled in stigmata, condemned to rust Innumerable poisons, cyclical depravity! A swarm of rats in decadent mortality The rats! The rats! O, cherished dirt! O, acerbic prison! Echelons corrupt As the poison finds, the source of the pulse That flickering candle of life is forlorn Within the madness of four walls A vortex drains thy marrow and spine 'Tis a fatal cave wherein you dwell Carve thy flesh! Carve thy flesh! Without the shroud of sainthood The guise of acceptance; falsehood This is where thy corpse is born Carve thy flesh! Carve thy flesh! My eyes are open! Smoke and dust plummeting To the very depths Of my livid self! For millennia I have been tricked! Promises of (in) sanity Swollen scars, gaping scars Carve thy flesh, becomeascar! Inhale the venom, exhale the fumes Rotten skin, open wounds