Vitriol The Parting Of A Neck
They ache from a place that's not far from our own. Incessant pattering
If you listen closely you can hear the suffering of strained twine
There's only a membrane that separates us. It's very thin, and weak in its resolve
It's a place from which hands can reach, but mortality is foreign
Incantations hang from the shelves of bent whispers
And corpulent hands
The noose that they gave me, you can hear it unfurl
The parting of a neck is deafening
Piloted eyes burst with a clandestine revelation
All a pool of blackened hammers. Our spirit the nail. Our bodies the anvil
They stare with the weight of them
A horror gapes, the yawning mouth of Hell
Countless teeth chew the bones of weaker men
Devour my failings, and the character that led me there
Cleanse me of filth. Reduce me to void
Cleanse me of filth
Crush my body between jaws of persecution
Cleanse me of filth. Reduce me to void
Cleanse me of filth. Reduce me to void
Cleanse me of filth
They carve curses from the feet of our broken children
They reached for our throats when tolerance burned away
It was an alien notion
Incantations hang from the breathes of bent whispers
And corpulent hands
That noose that they gave me, you can hear it unfurl
The parting of a neck is deafening
