Pity for the hardened screaming End of life A former comfort or a lack of self It's not over now its just the tip of a greater fall A greater fall My second hand devotion Is a first hand myth A myth that echoes in the body, Manipulate Feed me tragic stories through rusted metal tubes I prefer you're leather skin to the corpse i know Or the savageness Trapped in you're eye Push the bottom deeper Bring us closer Self unable satiate Not one with you're flesh An unfelt betrayal Not one with you're flesh An unfelt betrayal Pinnacle Pinnacle of the archetype Spends its life in gangbang degradation Try and transcend Pull me out of my body I won't ammend This smell is so heavy Transcend In dreams i bury you in my veins With no emotion Scrapped from the throat Of a wounded child Pull me out of my body The pigs run wild.