Lyrics Fit For An Autopsy – The Executioner

We go on searching for God, when we have finally lost ourselves.
Congregations of hysterical witnesses.
No longer blind to the visions in our dreams.
Lamented in the thought, this day would be your last.
Crippled by the fact that you have been left behind to serve as a reminder
That the faithless would never be forgiven.
Loathsome wanderers.
Nomadic incompetence.
Failure to survive.
Faceless advocates of disgrace.
A race of scum.
Every citizen, child, scholar, and teacher.
Cursed at birth.
Swallowed by its very existence.
Only in the end as our ashes escape into the atmosphere.
A beautiful and righteous ether encapsulates the world.
There will be peace in the silence.
There will be no more.
May the ancestors of our once great civilizations mourn us in the lighted sky,
For we all rest in ash, deep in the blackest darkest depths of our very own hell.
You will never hold the hand of god.
You will never hold the hand of god.
You will never hold the hand of god.
You will never hold the hand of god.
For it is hell, not the devil that I have held inside my heart.
It is the guilt, not the ghost that will haunt me.

Every time I close my eyes, I remain within this soil.
As a servant of my own sorrow.
They see me as I am.
I am nothing.