from
praise the most dead,
released March 12, 2012
the cloaked man looms
in his ghost town
ready to preach
I know his wounds
time heals nothing
anemic fervor
raise your hands to praise
and dance for sedation
drink from his swollen lips
to shake the hand of lightning
I don’t want to carry
the weight of the world
It won`t keep me young
how much can a man fake?
I know his wounds
his tired arms won`t guide me
eye sight, decrease
sleepwalk into the clusterfuck
where no one wears a face
my home is where the sleep reigns
sleep the dream
sleep to win
stay away from the old ways
and sleepwalk through your
self-made misery