These pages are a wasteland as far as I can see I can never stop the sickness seeping into me I've lost my way between the hours of my final days I slip through the cracks of consciousness From my body where I lay While a heart devoid of demons resides in the blessed cynic Sit and watch every mountain in your mind become monolithic Beloved and violent, the ebb and flow of parting tides Iridescent and timeless, chasing lost causes through the night Following my affliction to the depths of myself The darkest corners of existence with the curses I am dealt A word to the faithful; blind and vague, tall like Rome Your church is a gla** house, fragile empire You're just fools casting stones And if your plan is in fact my pa**ing, then ease my weary mind Tell me the place they speak of after is a heaven in my eyes In the throes of my decay, between the ceiling and the sky Every fibre of my being hopes you weren't the whitest lie If a church is a coward's coma, wrap this man in arms and lies I've been running from d**h forever, and you're the perfect place to hide