Shorn of apocryphal pride

The locks falls predicting strife

Cranium exposed

Denial of aesthetic

Push it [Incomprehensible]

All of this burnt to ashes

All of this torn to rags

I don't know what the fuck have I become?

Synapses snapping mortality decimated

Breakdown whiskey shifts hate into overdrive

Realizing it's murder, murder, murder of self so clean

I don't know what the fuck have I become?

Hand reaches out, desecrates impunity

Ripping away foundation's identity

Replacing with shame

Transgression mythologized

Indiscretions immortalized

Anger inflamed with dry rot

Pushing towards severance

What a bloody mess

Visiting dark sites unknown

Grief lands like a ton of brick

All of this burnt to ashes

All of this torn to rags