Demo

Failure Failure of the highest degree There’s no hope left for me There’s no hope In the worst way Hope for better days And by that I mean Cessation Worn on down to the bitter end I saw the frostbitten digits of my own sin Now the weight can’t be carried anymore Saw the rope and it called me, it called me home Only thorns remain Roses wilted at my grave

Here in The back room Of the mind We return To the dark ages from long ago We return to the temple of self-loathing To finish the job I will press my lips to the burning coals I will press my lips to the burning coals