The salt from my eyes burn
As does the acid of my tongue.
Might a tempest releive me of sound and sight.
Might I unearth the hatchet
And put it to proper use.
My hand is poised, and in fury.
Only thunder gives me rest.
Dare me to breathe
When I cant catch my breath.
Sway my temper's balance.
Only thunder gives me rest.
Hardly
Anesthesia
For The World
Hardly
The Bonds Of Those Who Have No Understanding Of Co
We Who Finish Last
To Suffer Fools
Venomspreader
Willing Oneself To Forget What Cannot Otherwise Be Forgiven
Being Exemplary
Solely Concentrating On The Negative Aspects Of Life
Scornful Of The Motives And Virtue Of Others
This Wake I Myself Have Stirred
Man Into Demon: And Their Faces Are Twisted With The Pain Of Living
Chorus Of The Dissimilar
Whether To Cry Or Destroy
Think The Adder Benign
Misanthropy Pure
Eating Bullets Of Acceptance
For The World