Epicinium
Voices from the fuselage
Hell is hanging from the rafters
A society that just won’t keep
But we continue like pastors
The faith of which, we take a leap
I’m screaming on the inside
My exterior is wearing thin
This force will stop at nothing
Until dust has become of skin
A society that just won’t keep
But we continue like pastors
The faith of which, we take a leap
I’m screaming on the inside
My exterior is wearing thin
This force will stop at nothing
Until dust has become of skin
You want a culprit, I can slip you a name
It’s decorated with devotion and fame
So this is how we win
For every redemption that follows a cold blooded slaughter
We’re obsessed with the end of days
And it’s many potential ways
And yet here we stay…
The many corners we have turned
So many bridges we have burned
When will we learn?
Play the martyr for the fool
There’s no exclusionary rule
Yet they play it cool
I doubt the fire ever quells
It just waxes and it swells
Until we see the likes of hell
You want a culprit, I can slip you a name
It’s decorated with devotion and fame
So this is how we win
For every redemption that follows a cold blooded slaughter
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