INSTRUMENTAL
Remember that pain
It was me, stretched and torn
Raped and maimed
Remember that pain
It was me, stretched and torn
See, I am like a tree
Lines of ages are written in flesh
Dead but still not free
To my pieces
Please give some order, lavage me
I am still your spieces.
To my pieces
Please give some order, lavage me
Those fingers touched you
Now mortified, cold in solitude
And split in two
Rigid and gorgeously clean
Muscles recollection time, a short flash
It was me, meant to mean
No drige for a moan
Memory is my own manifestation
Made of ash, I am gone
To my pieces
Please give some order, lavage me
I am still your spieces.
Those fingers touched you
Now mortified, cold in solitude
And split in two

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