Behold a pathetic spectacle of self-neglect and misery
Unless you hate yourself, you can’t begin to think of feeling me
I’m a melancholic product of confusing circumstances,
And there’s no one this earth that can understand the trances
Necromancy upon my broken flesh reveals that I’m immortal
Endless anguish overwhelms, I gaze in mystic portal
I see the raging field of flames in all its spiteful wrath
The beckoning skeletons make me reckon with my path
The chittering bones are my only friends in this hellish realm
Might as well melt my flesh and join them in their hell.
\"We both know how this will end.
I may not know how it will shake out exactly,
but our tale has one specific ending.
We are one and the same, dear friend,
And I know that you won’t have the patience
To tolerate this nonsense for much longer.
Whether it’s today or tomorrow, it will happen,
my friend.\"