as the end nears
creeping is the hub of this our existential outcast
upon our lives the hatchet of our demise does fall
it is a razor
slicing our essence
the thread of our fluid life in snapping forfieture
our rotting begins
forward into the cavern of heat
full fortune fallen
nothing to measure your worth
not your fame
not your deeds
not the trinkets you had amassed nor the beauty that you paid for
you are next in line, not a name
look at you naked
look at the oil poured over your face
It isn't personal
It's business
Satan vomits into your mouth just to watch the fames engulf you for eternity
upon our lives the hatchet of our demise does fall
it is a razor
slicing our essence
the thread of our fluid life in snapping forfieture
our rotting begins
forward into the cavern of heat
full fortune fallen
nothing to measure your worth
not your fame
not your deeds
not the trinkets you had amassed nor the beauty that you paid for
you are next in line, not a name
look at you naked
look at the oil poured over your face
It isn't personal
It's business
Satan vomits into your mouth just to watch the fames engulf you for eternity