Vital Malice Conclusions
Another Pointless Epic
Pouring from the cubical asylum
Stock up on rations
And grab the hearse's keys
And on this night
We place upon the foyuers toung
The sadistic speaches
And masachistic skill of
Divinity and rage
And to the deities we pray for a new age
The scribes spoke falsly
Everything is perverted by free will
Given the circumstances
I've got the will to kill . .
f..ck tears, f..ck fears
f..ck silence and f..ck years
Time is your only enemy
On the mind we thrive
