In this paralytic state of depression you beg for your own life you’ll drown in
pain and sorrow before compassion bleeds from my knife. I laugh at the thought
of your death as you stumble for some kind of clarity, nothing shown between
these cold grey walls but pure insanity. Separated from love, faith or touch,
you scream but no one hears you. Your soul a worthless harvest, clouded by
narcotic ritual. You are the final traitor, mutiny cursed on my bones. The
hour’s drawing later, a meal of starv-ed crows. These walks through the woods
have become a horror story, a reminder of pain, a reminder of the fallen glory.
Turn and run 'cause I’m a fucking maniac, the dead children have tasted your
blood. Soulless angels have returned for the hunt, it ends tonight. I can taste
the fear in my mouth, I can feel it flowing through my veins. Abandon every
hope ye who enters here. You are the final traitor, mutiny cursed on my bones.
The hour’s drawing later, a meal of starv-ed crows. Mark my words and mark them
well, I will kill you.


Lyrics submitted by sepultura1987

Thirteenth Disciple song meanings
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