This air of silence, breathes through the sullen mist
Transparent winds, ease these age-old wounds

As stale thoughts disappear through Morpheus pathways, I am in wake but dreaming

This warmth annuls, as time drew slowly upon this wretch of life

Weary sighs of condolence never did urge with zest
The fire within hands made to rest

Swallow me within sin
This blood flows free through my veins
Procure my will through lascivious rite

Delving subliminal realms as lust invites me to stay
Engulfed within flesh

Casting gaze at the puppets, acting out their play
Their slightly wooden frames stretched and splintered by their masters

Crawling beneath their minds' eye

Those whom follow, reflect, and do not become

Not to be...not to be...

Their words waste my time here with their fragrantless tones
A veil to distract those whom wouldst live

To create, not to serve

I walk amongst the shadows of the dead, thoughts bleeding into the ether

Into endless night

I have not seen myself for ages
This empty shell cares no longer for life
Slowly replacing the flesh with steel so that I may carry on...
Unfettered by this mortality

The air no longer carries favour
The water that passes these lips keeps only this mortal shell alive.

For hope has been not here, nor raised in it's form

And all is lost again
Eradicate the shadows, that dements these thoughts
And if I were to enter slumber?
Only sleep, guarded by a sense I may never wake, slipping into narcoleptic state

Seas of tormented bliss, ebb away from these barren shores

Nothing remains

Only pieces of this intimate jigsaw...and 'tis upon me again

The clock ticks on and still I remain
Death wrenched upon my eyes, to the birth of a second sight

Visions surround, the haze of my labyrinth
Angles of dimensions unreal, unseen

Blood, in the deep of my eyes
Fires within the mountain

'Tis within my grasp
The point that will shall eventually reach and shall have no return

'Tis but a fucking grey day for me now
One that I care not to meet

Wherefor is this grey fucking day that I should sit in here now?
Now of all times, for all times have been now, until they became then

And it grates upon these very nerves, that move my body amongst the living
As they seethe, shaking their anger throughout my bones...as if to escape...

Such a need to explode, for this time ticks slowly
Through this, the greyest of all days
Waiting for now to become then

And it tears me apart, but I cannot escape this terrible pain
Ripping, devouring the bones within my flesh
Draining my life's blood

And wherefor is this fucking grey day that I should sit in here again?

And what?
What fucking tale to tell now?
Of tears uncried?

Only the sweat of writhing agony

The eyes shed no tears...
For a mind gone insane...

[Instrumental]