Hate – venerating hate Begs to be repaid And never seems to fade
Spite – consummating spite; The medicated bile That keeps us on our way with the worms
Outside, caught up in this killing tide - Open the gates and I get blown away Gone, pride, sold out to this chilling shrine With no way to break the collars of those chains
But I can change the sulphur in the vein; The pressure in the flame In reverence if I can murder the killer in me
Change the mother in the snake; The message in the brain In reverence if I can murder the killer in me
Burn – I'd love to watch you burn; Shed your hot black skin And run from your own flames
Waste – a lifetime I could waste; While away the days Just dreaming of your face
The wrong hand is giving in In times of change The wrong hand is giving in