When will this endless search for nothingness end,
When all i see is death, screams, and the gore fest,
I smoke to slow, i pass to fast,
In the end thats all to bend,
Been venting in a lot of hate,
But faith is way to late,
Screaming skies and roaring wells,
Coins shun from a million dead hands,
Hands that once held, now rot in maggots,
As i scavenge another savage,
i was righthanded.
I hear sirens lookin for a guy like me,
tarots read by bitched called witched,
All's a sham to me, a plans what sounds right,
until then a clans what i might.