Thavius Beck And The Beat Goes On
Submerged in the scourge
I gorge then I purge
My pride
Not discouraged when the wick’s flame died
‘Cuz my broken window pane
Let inside the winds of change
Now the dust
The dirt
Disgust
The hurt’s
Quickly brushed of the shirt
And blown throughout my home
And personal sanctuary
Then placed in the cemetery
Barely back from the wake of the buried
But the sight of vacant eyes will never scare me
My daily walks amongst the living dead have well prepared me
And rarely do I encounter a character who can counter my theories
Lately I live the life of a loner and let none near me
Clearly these people ponder a way to author their slaughter
Slit wrists
Colorless in bath water
Yeah the clock doesn’t stop a single tick
When the soul and its rotting flesh split
And the former slips away
While the later half basks in decay
The day starts as the sunrays embark
On their routine excursion illuminating the dark
And all the fiendish perversions in which we take part
Along with all the beauty and the bliss
On this slowly turning granite balanced on it’s slanted axis
Consider the magnificence of we’re given access
Desire and action
The key to unlock the unknown
Spaces on this atlas
And within these fleshy cages
Before our own collapses and succumbs
Let these pages which are ageless carry with them what we’ve practiced
