Thrash yourself upon the pigs
In the grave see what he digs
Pull yourself up on the way
Save your self for another day.
Fiction spent on sickened lies
Eats you up with compromise
Borne of empty tempest’s swell
Twisting through forgotten hell.
Forged of unforgiven rage
Rot inside your absent cage
Permeating silent sin
Coins of copper, gold and tin.
Down the slimy, tiny rope
In the end you’ll get no hope
Strip the hearing for no cause
Strike the note then time to pause.
Take the hammer from the snow
Watch it melt in time you’ll know
Peace sits on the corner’s side
Ever drifts into the tide.

Ever drifts into
the tide.

Ever drifts
into the
tide
...
.

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