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Somatically incorrect

par Whitechapel

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There are no bonds between a mastermind of Armageddon
And the ones who vomit forth their fabrication
Of a life that is blinded by lies
Funny how it all works out
This is my chance to control
You´re lying on the shards talking to yourself
Your innards exposed
Laughing uncontrollably, crushing your anatomy
Delusional psychosis has its grip on me
I just cant fucking wait
I have the upper hand to do whatever I please
I´m in love with the fact that you´re looking at me
While you take your last gasp of air
Crawl back into your comforting hole
Keep promising yourself that salvation will come
I really don´t think you know the life that you could have
Just keep thinking everything will be all right
Keep thinking you can hide from destiny
I´ll keep haunting every move you make
Let me inside your mind
I prefer you to defend yourself
Schizophrenia interrupts the scene of attention
Let´s see how long this will last
It´s normal to dismember, it´s normal to contain no regrets
For what i have caused and the dramatic effect
My vision´s spinning my nose is bleeding
Everything is slowly distorting
This is somatically incorrect
Through hell you will walk to even get the slightest moment of peace
You haven´t even gotten anything close to what you deserve
It´s set in stone and putrefaction will be my oxygen
Recite your pledge to death and don´t forget to die
Choke on the false hope
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