INSTRUMENTAL Remember that pain It was me, stretched and torn Raped and maimed Remember that pain It was me, stretched and torn See, I am like a tree Lines of ages are written in flesh Dead but still not free To my pieces Please give some order, lavage me I am still your spieces. To my pieces Please give some order, lavage me Those fingers touched you Now mortified, cold in solitude And split in two Rigid and gorgeously clean Muscles recollection time, a short flash It was me, meant to mean No drige for a moan Memory is my own manifestation Made of ash, I am gone To my pieces Please give some order, lavage me I am still your spieces. Those fingers touched you Now mortified, cold in solitude And split in two