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Gnashing Teeth
by
Like Moths to Flames
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Death is the cure Stained glass reflects an image of faith Baptized in the flames A painted mark on the grave The sound of gnashing my teeth on the cross echoes endlessly Separate the soul from the heart The sacrifice of the lamb to the dark Nothing is permanent Corroded innocence Manufacturing the will to exist This ticking clock Always moves in slow motion but never stops Surrender hope When the shadows all come from below I should have known this rope Could only hold so much before it lets me go Death is the cure Pitch black where I've been feeding pain Bent back as the spine disconnects from my brain (From my brain) The sound of gnashing my teeth on the cross echoes endlessly Malevolent dreams Dance with the devils that devour me Malevolent nightmares Separate the soul to disappear Nothing is permanent Immortal ignorance Manufacturing the will to exist Nothing is permanent Clip my fucking wings Fall back to earth One with the dirt This ticking clock Always moves in slow motion but never stops Surrender hope When the shadows all come from below I should have known this rope Could only hold so much before it lets me go Surrender hope When the shadows all come from below I should have known this rope Could only hold so much before it lets me go
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