the living dead by s.c
Though we are dead gone, though we have died
The pain of being dead alive, something has gone wrong
As a countenance sinks, the pain of being dead alive
Four disparate minds converge on one theorem, a new beginning to the physiological
but as we decompose
From beyond the pale, something has gone wrong
The living dead by s.c, still we live on Dead, though we are dead gone
As a countenance sinks, a new beginning to the physiological, structures in decay
Four disparate minds converge on one theorem, return of the living dead by s.c
Immortal suffering, a new beginning to the physiological
We never wanted to revive, dried bones as they break
Structures in decay, the living dead by s.c Alive, decomposing and gutted
No supplication, decomposing and gutted
shrouded by this mortal veil
with noxious gasses that offend
Organs dessicate, our systems in disarray, muscles liquify
The pain of being dead alive, decomposing and gutted Impaled, a foul odor we execrate
Prone amongst detritus without ambulation, post-mortem torturing, a foul odor we execrate
the pain of being dead alive