Under Blackened Skies

Bow down and kiss the wounded skin, split knuckles bleeding
A coward’s bed in which to rest be glad you are breathing
My promises I will now betray does this give life meaning?
Will I regret these mindless ways the answer leaves me seething

We laugh in your face not a fucking beatdown
Prepare for a bludgeoning
Pathetic excuse for a fucking beatdown
Prepare for a bludgeoning

Relive the visions of the pas with your thoughts reeling
A jester’s crown upon your head and you keep bleating
The answer to my question yes though I am still repeating
The rush is pure in this no doubt aftermath of feeling

I will not be denied my pound of flesh
Crowned, yet crucified we laugh in your face
Failed acid test not a fucking beatdown
Crowned, and crucified crowned, yet justified pathetic excuse
Failed, acid test, welcomed at your behest welcome to your bludgeoning
Never consider surrender you leave me no choice on the cusp of oblivion



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