Like Moths To Flames - Gnashing Teeth

Death is the cure
Stained glass reflects an image of faith
Baptized in the flames
A painted mark on the grave
The sound of gnashing my teeth on the cross echoes endlessly

Separate the soul from the heart
The sacrifice of the lamb to the dark

Nothing is permanent
Corroded innocence
Manufacturing the will to exist

This ticking clock
Always moves in slow motion but never stops

Surrender hope
When the shadows all come from below
I should have known this rope
Could only hold so much before it lets me go

Death is the cure
Pitch black where I've been feeding pain
Bent back as the spine disconnects from my brain
The sound of gnashing my teeth on the cross echoes endlessly

Malevolent dreams
Dance with the devils that devour me
Malevolent nightmares
Separate the soul to disappear

Nothing is permanent
Immortal ignorance
Manufacturing the will to exist
Nothing is permanent
Clip my fucking wings
Fall back to earth
One with the dirt

This ticking clock
Always moves in slow motion but never stops

Surrender hope
When the shadows all come from below
I should have known this rope
Could only hold so much before it lets me go

Surrender hope
When the shadows all come from below
I should have known this rope
Could only hold so much before it lets me go