A Creeping Dose
Hell rains upon me
With the reigns of atomic end
It doesn't matter what I believe
Cause in the end it's all about the means
These winds are no longer safe for breathing
They convey the fatal blow
But a vessel that special delivers its poisons,
They're 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 you're all guilty too
You're all fucking guilty
There's a sickness in my body
Every pore, every aperture, an avenue
For the life to escape it's host
Everything I touch I leave my husk behind
Empty bones and undertones of fumes that sear my soul,
I'll repair these tattered lungs
With a drop of cyanide upon my tongue
I'm too sick to move
I'm too weak to make it through
The soil I lay upon has been polluted with the truth
And I'm 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
There's a sickness in my body
Every pore, every aperture, an avenue
For the life to escape it's host
Everything I touch I leave my husk behind
Empty bones and undertones of fumes that sear my soul,
I'll repair these tattered lungs
With a drop of cyanide upon my tongue
Now my lungs, are filled with a creeping dose of
Bitter disgust, for the world I used to trust
The world has yet to see, what can truly be unleashed
When you fuck with the, intercontinental travesty
With the reigns of atomic end
It doesn't matter what I believe
Cause in the end it's all about the means
These winds are no longer safe for breathing
They convey the fatal blow
But a vessel that special delivers its poisons,
They're 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 you're all guilty too
You're all fucking guilty
There's a sickness in my body
Every pore, every aperture, an avenue
For the life to escape it's host
Everything I touch I leave my husk behind
Empty bones and undertones of fumes that sear my soul,
I'll repair these tattered lungs
With a drop of cyanide upon my tongue
I'm too sick to move
I'm too weak to make it through
The soil I lay upon has been polluted with the truth
And I'm 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
There's a sickness in my body
Every pore, every aperture, an avenue
For the life to escape it's host
Everything I touch I leave my husk behind
Empty bones and undertones of fumes that sear my soul,
I'll repair these tattered lungs
With a drop of cyanide upon my tongue
Now my lungs, are filled with a creeping dose of
Bitter disgust, for the world I used to trust
The world has yet to see, what can truly be unleashed
When you fuck with the, intercontinental travesty
Credits
Writer(s): Nick Sampson, In Fear And Faith
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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