Chant the mantra of a dying world...      Slashed wrists of my conscience    Leaving me free to make more mistakes   As I fall from hell to hell I look up    To see I've been conditioned to hate      From my ego I can see the world revolve round me   To the martyrs who suffer, suppressing the lust   Live through me a cheaper version of disgust      Chant the mantra of a dying world...      I am without purpose   A stained glass window without the sun   Like a shadow, loved and need by no one      Those who restrain desire do so   Cause theirs is weak enough to be restrained   Behind a body liberated lies    A mind incarcerated, bound by chains      Choose not to like me but forced to respect me   Others entrust a myth with their faith   A faith in oneself can often be misplaced      Chant the mantra of a dying world...      I am without purpose   A stained glass window without the sun   Like a shadow, loved and need by no one      All I have is ashes to scatter and little more...