Chatterbox Spine
Ice cold shiver,
Twitch crawling up my spine as this madness digs its
claws deep into my mind,
Futile is this lie, futile would be death,
Soul can find no solace; choke on every breath.
World of strife, I am numb,
No more life; I succumb.
Haunted by my sin; spiritual disease,
This world offers nothing to quench my soul's unease,
Where can I find hope?
How can I be freed?
Lie is overcome by pain,
What can fill this need?
World of strife, I am numb,
No more life; I succumb.
World of strife, I am numb,
No more life; I succumb,
World of strife, I am numb,
No more life; I succumb.
