Perceived in motion, time will pass us by Don't deny the rite of the ocean's grasp on our lunar plane Hunting the reaper won't change anything Constrained from motion by the vines you've let grow Confined by rot trapped in a victim's doubt End my suffering To deny me is to deny death To deny me is to deny death, motherfucker! Thief of life, steal my soul, take from me what I do not own First blood drawn at the blood moon's dawn I can't keep up, what's wrong, what's wrong I'm lost, I'm sick, I can't find shit, stuck in a pit of loneliness To the brink and back, my planned attack never got past its insurgence Gored by the horns of gods Fucking gored by the horns of gods Gored The winds of putridity strewn about the now begotten shores Littered with man's penance Spirits roam these lands with no semblance of guidance An ember glows brightest when left to feed on darkness Solid soil full of oil boiling to the streets Dead and gone are the ways of old better them than me Moving in a constant stasis, burden free of a sky unclean You've wilted our divinity Divinity Watchmen of the North tribe, enlighten my deceptive mind Sitting all alone on your death bed grieving Can't pay the fee but the ferryman's waiting to take you home To take you home