Weight

Deep under black glass squat the scars of time
Screaming up litanies of bile and chyme
They sanitise all love and hammer dreams to stone
And weight this whimpered life with dying rhyme

There is no place to plead for other things
Our bodies poorly-painted in shrinking light
Robbed by a twitch of rot and boiled in night
To the indifferent flap of sacred wings

These aching sounds are forged to leave no doubt
No way to wrench a raindrop from this drought
When the last chilling life chokes fledgling day
And everything of consequence put out

The heart was never healed for this retreat
The worshipping of mud and undone sleep
A laughing fist inside all conscious aim
That orders the eclipse of what we reap

Beyond our scheme of errors loss vibrates
And carves from looted skulls its strings of hate
Across the edge of fire it drives blades
To strike dumb every note it cannot rape

The core of all life generates cliché
The will is set to processing decay
This mind a whining mess that mangles truth
Has waxed, and wasted all my faith away

Deep under black glass squat these scars of time
Screaming up litanies of bile and chyme
They sanitise all love and hammer dreams to stone
And weight this life with ribs of dying rhyme



Credits
Writer(s): Vore Complex
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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