Left Hand Solution

The Futile Passion

Left Hand Solution


In the gallery of lost hopes 
We stand as mortal shells 
In this futile passion 

Let the whorish smile seduce you 
In this sickness we all carry 
Let the insects crawl you through 
On this sweet and sickly day 

My soiled hands dig in the mould 
Where all beauty lies rotting 

In the gallery of lost hopes 
You pass between my memories 
As morality dies in my heart 

Let the whorish smile seduce you 
On this sweet and sickly day 

White sheets drenched 
With bodily fluids that dry on my skin 
Experience the infection I bring 
I cling to you in fever and lay myself into your sea 
And let the nausea wash through me