Hell rains upon me
With the reigns of atomic end
It doesnât matter what I believe
Cause in the end itâs all about the means
This winds are no longer safe for breathing
They convey the fatal blow
But a vessel that special delivers
Poisson theyâre flowing straight into my lungs
I should have know that it would end this way
But I was locked up shut down
Shoving it all away
I was in denial
And now know youâre all guilty too
Youâre f*cking guilty too
Thereâs a sickness in my body
Every pore aperture an avenue
For the life to escape itâs host
Everything I touch I leave my husk behind
Empty bones and undertones of fumes
That sear my soul Iâll repair these tarred lungs
With a drop of cyanide upon my tongue
Iâm too sick to move
Iâm too weak to make it through
The soil I lay upon has been polluted
With a truth
And Iâm too sick to move
Arms made of lead along with a shortness
Of breath brought on by armies of dead men
With no sense of regret
Thereâs a sickness in my body
Every pore aperture an avenue
For the life to escape itâs host
Everything I touch I leave my husk behind
Empty bones and undertones of fumes
That sear my soul Iâll repair these tarred lungs
With a drop of cyanide upon my tongue
Now my lungs are failed with a creeping dose of
Bitter disgust for the world I used to trust