Sickness
Conscious Rot
We're tired of life and death We're sick of sweet tongues We want to retch up Melancholia has took hold of us Not knowing what's the existence We're feigning very clever We don't see as the fire Nears to our paper world We're retched up from the sermons Already used to these drugs Our souls have dried up We are living corpses We want to die We want to die Let us die easy Take our misery off Tke off our fright And let us die for ages...