Strange Sounds Deep in There

To attempt to
Contemplate
Your mind must be
Your body be
Time and space
Forgotten

Keep your faith
Young monk
Retaliate
Young punk
Ascend
Good luck
Hopeful
Forgotten

Call it what you want
To pray
Says number 68 is hard
But theres a way
Thank God
To kingdom
Come
Your battle won

To worship
To levitate
To breathe
To leave
To be forgotten

Levitate young monk
Ball a fist
Young punk
Transcend
Good luck
So long
Forgotten

Call it what you want
To pray
Says number 68 is hard
But theres a way
Thank God
To kingdom
Come
Your battle won

Crack the bone
Crush to dust
Earthen ash
None of us
Thank God
To kingdom come
Tear the flesh
Shed the blood
For the battle won

I am sick
Ha!
I am wicked
An enemy
Of everyone
And everything

I am sick
Ha!
I am wicked
An enemy
Of everyone
Dostoevsky

I am sick
Ha!
I am wicked
An enemy
Of everyone
And everything

I am sick
Ha!
I am wicked
An enemy
Of everyone
Dostoevsky

I am sick
Ha!
I am wicked
An enemy
Of everyone
And everything

I am sick
Ha!
I am wicked
An enemy
Of everyone
Dostoevsky



Credits
Writer(s): Another Hundred Years
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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