Tutor of the Dying
As the adjustment of faces slowly takes place through putrefaction
Ugly shaped creatures rove through life while carrying the burden of infliction
Bare-skinned, disgraced, emptied and forlorn led astray
In the cradle of the unborn lies their truth to be discarded
Lost in time as well in place, betraying of selves stains the sacrificed blood of generations
Voluntary walked towards slaughter the path of disgrace
To be butchered by relentless hands
Persistent neglecting demanding eyes of the harbinger of ruination
Only eternal silence awaits
Reject the gift of life
Hostages of indolence-worthless bones in a box
Fleeing liberation, embrace compassion-and still you know no shame
Detractors, ungrateful for the suns of existence
Life's traitors and takers, for gratitude is ever absent
Doomed, bound to the shackles of death
A slow departure of skin translated in the stench of the rotten clench the stench of the dead
Choose to breath the thin but precious air of distinction
And fight at my side
For I am the Tutor of the Dying
Consumed will be the architect of false faith and misconception
Their tongues, their words, their throats, they're mine!
Ugly shaped creatures rove through life while carrying the burden of infliction
Bare-skinned, disgraced, emptied and forlorn led astray
In the cradle of the unborn lies their truth to be discarded
Lost in time as well in place, betraying of selves stains the sacrificed blood of generations
Voluntary walked towards slaughter the path of disgrace
To be butchered by relentless hands
Persistent neglecting demanding eyes of the harbinger of ruination
Only eternal silence awaits
Reject the gift of life
Hostages of indolence-worthless bones in a box
Fleeing liberation, embrace compassion-and still you know no shame
Detractors, ungrateful for the suns of existence
Life's traitors and takers, for gratitude is ever absent
Doomed, bound to the shackles of death
A slow departure of skin translated in the stench of the rotten clench the stench of the dead
Choose to breath the thin but precious air of distinction
And fight at my side
For I am the Tutor of the Dying
Consumed will be the architect of false faith and misconception
Their tongues, their words, their throats, they're mine!
Credits
Writer(s): When Plagues Collide
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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