Текст Between The Buried And Me – Lay Your Ghosts To Rest

A new world made with the hands of madness.
These hands.
These hands.
These hands.
They will always do the cutting.
Piece by piece the pain gets worse, pain gets worse.
If only I could see myself right now.
The gathering of flesh.
Transforming my face into an unrecognizable state.
Smooth out the eyes.
Smooth out the lips.
Every mirror is a past idea smashed upon recognition.
Will it be found?
Will the right hands deliver?
The heartache I left.
Will it be found?
Will the right hands deliver?
The heartache I left.
Cut until all that is left is new material.
Myself.
Day in, day out.
Deep down I know what I must do.
So much happens behind closed doors.
So much happens behind our closed doors.
This key will open them.
Expose us all.

Crusty-eyed symphony.
Awakened by my grunts and moans.
Why do I do this to myself?
I suppose the choice was all mine.
God felt so much better before the mirror glimpse.
On the surface, I know what I must do.
What I must do.
God felt so much better before the mirror glimpse.
On the surface, I know what I must do.
What I must do.
What I must do.
What I must do.
What I must do.
The precaution documents.
The fail safe way back «home».
Should I end it right here and now?
The precaution documents.
The fail safe way back «home».
Should I end it right here and now?
That would be far too selfish.
I shall end what I’ve begun.
The creation of more.
More of us.
The skin and bones of destruction.
An army of weak souls.
Weak minds.
Weak souls.
Weak minds.
Weak souls.
Weak minds.
Weak souls.
Weak minds.
Weak souls.
Weak minds.
Weak souls.
Weak minds.
Weak souls.
Weak minds.
Weak souls.
Weak life.
I wake to my own whimper.
Ship is counting down.
Must regroup myself.
I wake to my own whimper.
Ship is counting down.
The end starts now.
Cut until all that is left is new material.
Myself.
Day in, day out.
Cut until all that is left is new material.
Myself.
Day in, day out.