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In a silent room i awake, from my eternal slumber
i am not exempt, always desolate
i bare a life of squander
a light that glimmers from afar
may guide me to resurface
And as the sun sets again, i am liberated from all my burdens x2
These tombs are filled with corpses
that shall awaken shortly
to purgatory all will march, a perdition of this kind's impending
regret won't dissipate, nor all the blood that we've shed
a strain tainted by the hands of malice
drunk on a poison from a tainted chalice
both the perverse and the good will perish
no pure soul shall be free from damage
the dying stride these vital paths
no pillars to hold what was once known as valid reality
exodus to a netherworld where death nigh it's shores
and a dismal casket for my carcass (becomes a home x2) x2
it's a must that the flesh turn to ash and devoid turns the marrow of the bones