Fit For An Autopsy The Jackyl
Just like a curse
A walking plague of gluttony
Ripping through the stomachs of the needless greedy
The rotting apple that we consume every day
The decomposing flesh that serves as armor for the hungry
We are ravenous
Starving for tragedy
We are war and peace
We are self destruction
We are life and death
We are suicide
No one gets out alive
You are nothing but an empty, wasted life
You'll never f..cking make it out alive
Prisoners to our pathetic lives
Existing only as guiltless parasites
Dead man walking in desperation
Waiting for a change
Begging for the end
While you make your peace with God
I wage war with the rest of the world