At battle with a mass astrengent. The bond
   That blends the weak to the wise.
   It's a safe assumption that you'd want
   to save me now. But I'll never face castration.
   For your sacred sow is left slaughtered.
   Brainwashed by me. Myself influence I. Bird brained
   World saver. A fake god rests dead inside you.
   It's a safe assumption that you'd want to save me now.
   But I'll never face castration. For your sacred sow is left
                Slaughtered.
   System destroyed. Exposed and unployed. The fruit
   Of intention cry for their dead, but turning their head to
   Ignore reality's claw. Knife to your wrist, syringe in your
   Arm is your ounce of prevention. Give what you made,
   And under your name on your grave, is salvation. A big
   Fucking joke.
   Slaughter the pig, the self rightous king for your own
   Restoration. For your God is in your chest, and faith kills
   What is precious, for death is unanswered.
               Do sin