(This flesh holds me captive and in quest of liberation
As the sheep flock in the dissonance, I tread in dissent
To the piercing light that sears our hearts
To the sickness that plagues our spirits
I cannot revere in this blind acceptance
And falter in my comprehension)
Forfeit my injured soul, this affliction I respire!
Heal this restless spirit - that bestowed naught
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate - I consign!
Heal my heart, my weeping soul, I consign this putrid flesh
Nothing here, nobody there
(Erroneous illness shouting)
The outcry reviles this tattered soil
(Drowning the world in filth and distortion)
Forfeit my injured soul, this affliction I respire!
Heal this restless spirit - that bestowed naught
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate - I consign!
Heal my heart, my weeping soul, I consign this putrid flesh
I'll leave my conscience to die
A barrenness of dreams and anticipation
Life and hope shrivel into the void
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate - I consign!
Heal my heart, my weeping soul, I consign this putrid flesh
In this pantheon of sorrow
(We are everything, yet nothing!)
And as long we're breathing
(The burden devoid of conclusion!)
(Unaided I slither - ravaged, silent and alone
I smolder in anxious strife; I decline these exhausted remnants of decay
The world is coming to an end; a vast ocean of disease
All hope is lost or perhaps this is the cradle of salvation)
I must tranquil these turbulent waters
No more expressions shall leave my trait
No further words shall be spoken
This illness they conceived broke my tired wings
