From the Torso

Maybe death is the fucking solution

Beneath this cold flesh
Hunger dwells within my core
Inside this cracked shell
My soul is scarred once more

Consuming the weak
Unleashing a storm of atrocities
Unholy reckoning
Shattered on the floor

Like I consume the hate in you
It festers deep, corrupting through
The rot takes hold, it seals your fate
Succumb to rage

Rip the flesh
From the torso

I rise to the call of screams and my severed dream
As it breaks

The weight of its grip drags me under the earth
Fingers like daggers, they shatter my nerves
Stripping the past I have buried in vain
The marrow ignites, set ablaze in my veins
Maybe death is the fucking solution

From the torso