Lyrics
The aching in our bones
Ever-penetrating, betraying our wills
The whispering of honeyed words
Chattering: "Work for work's sake"
The ink blotting the page
Erasure of our being
The clouds of incense relentlessly curl
The sun will never return here
Stand intoxicated, stand bereft of breath
Stand witness to a world plunged into typhlosis
How sweet this smell? This poison?
O, to believe in the goodness of power
Michael Baer
O/B/O DistroKid