Lying in a bed of broken glass.
The solace of light starts to pass.
No oxygen to inhale, only hours of regret to continue
to spend inside my coma of detriment.
There is no truth to find.
Death consumed by deprivation.
A self created desolation.
Pull the plug, it's the only vaccination to
relinquish the life and remove the human condition.
No immortal will to stay alive.
There is no love or wonder to close the soul within its bind.
A pathology of apathy burrowing through me.
This infection will not end until nerve activity fails to send.
There is no truth to find.
Death consumed by deprivation.
A self created desolation.
Pull the plug, it's the only vaccination to
relinquish the life and remove the human condition.
Endless visions of the past reconstruct this Roman reality.
Crucified for the fictitious grace of the angel of catastrophe.
I can no longer hear the voice of faith.
Only the echoes of the past remains.
These screams carry a deafening eulogy.
My pulse slips into eternal sleep.
I cut out my eyes just to believe that it's all in my mind.
You are the concubine that eats away at my pride.
Fixating within the darkness of this decrepit existence.
Existence becomes fallacy.
Fate is nothing but a dream.
I will secrete this internal violence
within the threads of a noose.
And birth everlasting silence.
I will secrete this internal violence
within the threads of a noose.
And birth everlasting silence.
I would rather walk among the cold, pale, motionless art of death.
I would rather slit my throat than take another breath.
Because I'm living in a nightmare with fears I can't forget.
Because with every breath is another hour of regret.
supported by 4 fans who also own “The Human Condition”
This is one of the best albums I've ever heard. I recently discovered this and really hope these guys are still putting out music. It's just brilliant in every way. Queefer Sutherland