The fears of my past are more than real.
No script will offer comfort.
All I have is the eyes of my nightmares.
The beginning of the end is upon me.

This is the nature of depravity.
Only faceless figures await me.
The eyes of a failed sinner, a body where the dead lay.
This is the heart of the sick.

The nature of depravity.
The fears of my past are more than real.
Its only lust and obsession.
All emotion lies in decay.

I welcomed the darkness, I let it in.
This is the heard of the sick.
The fears of my past are more than real.
No script will offer comfort.
I welcomed the darkness, I let it in.