Love in the time of second hand social passage. Scripted interaction. Conversation is truly random. Threshing at the end and shaking like a rushing vein. This is the introduction now.
Graven effigy rendered before every eye. Do your work with the desolate.
Broken before the providence. Every saint. Can you feel the lashing of the death sail? Visions of war.
Oh, there's no interest in pleasing the ones looking for, searching ways to misunderstand you.
Gutter press talk shows and you don't know me testimony. But I could never understand myself.
You can't know every bruise I've bought but I know
what you're paying out to rake up its rot.
No reverence for life or limb, but I would never disrespect the legacy they held. Pressure mends if you apply it or fall beneath it,
but prisons and graveyards are filled with heads that wore the crown.
Whisper me a killing word
I will find you in the darkness. In the darkness, everlasting.
Spitting fire and brimstone at every turn
I see everything. I see everything.
Hail the restless, the ranks, and to all that are starved We'll come back to accelerate.
Floor it all to the ground.
You can't know every bruise I've bought.
This is the killing word.
WRITERS
Cory Putman, Grayson Stewart, Matthew Marquez, Matthew Putman