The Width Of A Circle
your torpid corpse is cremated, Another inert mutilated mess is sent up in
flames, An expedient way to obscure the facts, figures and names... Flames
unmake flesh and bone as all semblance of life is erased, Ensuring ashen
anonymity for my dusty victims untraced, Bellows belch forth the stench of
roasted human game, As the torso is engulfed in a torrid rush of flame...
Human kindling to burn, And then scrape into urns, Burnt to a crisp, Another
name scratched from my list... After fulfillment of
Walking Zero
Sacrifice my vanity, kick off my heels
A careless weight on your hetred,
Understand it's so simple, a simple please
To keep the faithful on a wounded knee,
To the madness I do confess
I never see myself as blessed
Confused, unaddressed,
Like a saviour I do caress,
The truth is boredom more or less
Unused, obsessed, my time is only given to you,
Too much to choose, it's not mine to contemplate
If I can lose, with this blood on my shoes
Compromise in full extreme, cut off my heels,
Name a price on what's sacred
Guaranteed I've got something,
A royal disease, take a flood to clean these streets
To the madness I do confess, forever see myself as blessed
Immune, obsessed, like a saviour I do caress
The truth is boredom, it's excess
Take more, give less, My time is only given up to you
Too much to choose, it's not mine to contemplate if I can lose
With this blood on my shoes.