Wriithe 歌词

This room, cold, empty O father, failure Forsaken but free For hate is the house of the holy With severed wings and a cross to burn A fist of ash when dust is the fare Time fleeting, the disease of life Faith's perversion Godless Rise Pages of skin turn With the carving wind The endless churning Degradation And beaten with forked tongues Smothered in gold Lashings of the Sun Awaiting its fall The fall The fall of light And the fear of hope What are we without hope? Crown of the eclipse Wreathed, this black hole hollow Vacant righteousness Long live their emptiness Swallowing the void Inversion of being Becoming whole revealing Onwards - withered and worn And the rats trail bearing gifts Gnawing of limbs, festering vermin gods, pathetic In worship, in wake - sepsis, seeping parched are the children Weeping tears, as maggots fall into the well of stone hands Broken teeth scraping mould, earned granules Insatiable The age of illusion Phantasmagoria The poison of promise Purging from divine eyes One last kiss Crawling as one Despair, a mouthing draught Bleeding the path, serpentine From flesh to bone The wear of the way Wading worth in waste Dying, the stench to come What was will be And the bodies will rise Pain is always Our bloodletting, heart-wrenching Writhe Silence waits with open arms War within, war without To suffer is to know To writhe is to live Writhe