Consciousness revives when a needlelike pain erupts from the pores

Iron in blood, blood on iron

A wound becomes a void

Feel my finger press through the stitches

A crowbar of flesh

Every person has stories to tell, so I tear out all pages one by one

The final chapter ends in my two hands

Show me to your funeral, I’ll show you how to rot

You tell yourself to breathe slow

Hide underneath the bed and hope that nobody knows

Waste away in flesh

I know you’ve tried your best

Dwell in a hole, and rot with the rest

Persistence outdone

Nowhere for you to run

Looking down at a barrel of a gun

There is no escape from the strangers lurking

I can’t run away when the crows are perching

The murder would cure my decay

Murder would cure my decay

And now I rot

And now I rot

I am the corpse of a murderer

And now I rot

And now I rot

Now I rot