Clean Lyric
Paragraph Lyric
Chapter one
Coloring, blistering, peeling the shell of the mask I'm in
Do you speak in tongues that haunt the mind?
To feed and deprive

Dry, blood, rain they shatter to pieces
Once again in the midst of wolves
Devoured to pieces

Chapter two
Grasping the air to breathe
In three combine the tragedies
The agony of the gardens ingesting
Persisting world of fleas

Streams of resolution
No longer issued worthwhile
Comprehending the absurd
No time for restitution

Innocent blood stains dry
Open the sores that rape the eyes
Ashamed and fully naked
Repeat the process to defile the body?

Turn away sacrifice the unclean
Cut your flesh from your mind
Devils in disguise, reprise, burned, swollen

Chapter three
This life of mind but a vapor
Specks of dust on a journey
Blown by winds deceived by laws

The beautiful things
Cling to the ropes
Do you have eyes?
Eyes set on the things that will curdle

Spoiled verbal trophies that will desert in full
Your hope a dying gasp
Peasant, your lips are filled with the poison
Of the asps
Chapter one   Coloring, blistering, peeling the shell of the mask I'm in   Do you speak in tongues that haunt the mind?   To feed and deprive      Dry, blood, rain they shatter to pieces   Once again in the midst of wolves   Devoured to pieces      Chapter two   Grasping the air to breathe   In three combine the tragedies   The agony of the gardens ingesting   Persisting world of fleas      Streams of resolution   No longer issued worthwhile   Comprehending the absurd   No time for restitution      Innocent blood stains dry   Open the sores that rape the eyes   Ashamed and fully naked   Repeat the process to defile the body?      Turn away sacrifice the unclean   Cut your flesh from your mind   Devils in disguise, reprise, burned, swollen      Chapter three   This life of mind but a vapor   Specks of dust on a journey   Blown by winds deceived by laws      The beautiful things   Cling to the ropes   Do you have eyes?   Eyes set on the things that will curdle      Spoiled verbal trophies that will desert in full   Your hope a dying gasp   Peasant, your lips are filled with the poison   Of the asps