Letra da Música Black Scythe Affair de What's He Building In There?

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While this wretched waking moment sees my stomach in a knot. Tying tubes to my intestines as I sickle weeds through burial plots. Everyone who stands and mourns might well as lie and rest their heads for the remains that time’s forgotten have been swallowed by the thirstful dead. This ghastly grinning death teethes ravenous.

So we’re seeking souls again. The flesh is freshly skinned; bodies ground to ashes and scattered to the wind. But no one remembers that the body’s but a vessel moulded out of medicine. And they say, time will take us all but the souls will live again, in the end.

Maybe your ashes are the sands of the hourglass and every grain that falls is another day you’ve surpassed. Your days are numbered; your lifeline thins. Maybe if you start running you could grow some fucking wings. You could be a reaper in disguise punishing the wicked for their lies. Lay with me, the keeper of the cemetery, and let the sickle sweep the ashes of another poor soul. Damned are the diabolical merchants, endless betrayed, foreordained and unrelenting.

No soul left unaccounted for.

No one is listening, nobody will hear you because your only forms of communication are the systolic clicks and ticking of your heart. It’s the time bomb and when the counter reaches zero you’ll forfeit your right to roam boundlessly, roam free. Now the only option left is to follow me. You could be a reaper in disguise punishing the wicked for their lies. Lay with me, the keeper of the cemetery, and let the sickle sweep the ashes of another poor soul. His place will replace your own. Help me help you find a reason to exist in this world of the afterlife. You could be part of the destruction. You could be part of the extinction. You could be the hands that massacre. You could be part of the slaughter. Save yourself and do the bidding of the insidious. Save yourself! Born to be the keeper and carrier, a sickle swinger ridding disease.

So we’re seeking souls again. The flesh is freshly skinned; bodies ground to ashes and scattered to the wind. But no one remembers that the body’s but a vessel moulded out of medicine. And they say, time will take us all but the souls will live again, in the end.

So here’s your final chance at redemption. Please hear our side now before all options are no more.

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Número de Palavras406
Número de Letras2355
IntérpreteWhat's He Building In There?

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