Daily Dose of Macabre.
Concealed underneath our sutchered-up skin,
Arteries gutter the bad blood within,
Our canine teeth feast on fallen fresh meat,
while our brains throb a rhythm with sin for a beat.
We would've already sold hearts made of gold,
and our tongues leak a toxin we cannot withhold,
Our broken bones and muscles are beyond repair,
And the lungs in our chests cease to breathe air.
Our once treasured soul leaves only a hole,
It's in the ground we will find our final role,
And if we are the soil beneath their boots,
Our children will grow with rotted roots.
Arteries gutter the bad blood within,
Our canine teeth feast on fallen fresh meat,
while our brains throb a rhythm with sin for a beat.
We would've already sold hearts made of gold,
and our tongues leak a toxin we cannot withhold,
Our broken bones and muscles are beyond repair,
And the lungs in our chests cease to breathe air.
Our once treasured soul leaves only a hole,
It's in the ground we will find our final role,
And if we are the soil beneath their boots,
Our children will grow with rotted roots.