Skitliv
EP • 2007
Who will deliver Me from Myself?
Submitted by Immortal — Apr 25, 2025
I see four suns in the sky My limbs becomes a rope of madness I have been awake for days on end Trying to unravel the secret of that one great pain There's an evil sickness inherent in humanity Lord Christ saviour or death, just death Descending angels - too fucking late Face the emptiness for everything is nothingness The procession of empty faces moves On a path of dying dead death The indifference of mankind - ekler meg Souls already rotting and turning to dust Hear the wailing, the mourning, of that ONE soul The great emptiness that awaits us Through forests deep and barren woods Through the minds of dead philosophers Towards the great nothingness
Submitted by The Void — Apr 25, 2025
I am sick So sick and tired I'm so sick and tired of this life As I watch you wander off one and all Dragging yourselves into the suicide of the mind While still praying and praising his Whoredom And so I try laughing while kissing goodbyes The last idiots still proclaiming their cuntlike Stories of their salvation poured out Into your vast and desolate structures of life As if life itself took a twisted turn and a crooked cross As children rise in silvery bleak moons singing songs For all the dead never realizing their departure from life And the road ahead is full of mud and slippery like birth And on your feet you rise and fall and rise and fall I sit in the shelter of my mind Where finalized and realized beauty is but temporary And savage brutality is part of all my moves and cracks There is no shelter from the demon-angels and theft There is no shelter from the ones inside your mind I like the way things tend to lean on irony I'd like to take you all to hell with me...
Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 25, 2025
← Go back to Skitliv