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lyrics

Look, I have hands
But the people said, “What are hands?”
Why am I helping these people?
I’m dooming myself with them
My own hands are numb
Abandoned by sensation
Betrayed on our planet
Now we’re dislocated

Strike the soft part, of the abdomen
Look just below, the bottom of the sternum
Aim up over liver, and through the diaphragm
Terminate a heart’s, pounding rhythm

A prophet for a fugitive
An aristocrat of misfortune
Queen of the damned

The ground beneath my feet
Feels darker and deeper
The cold, dry light of the sky
An odd frequency
Watching from the shadows
Of a beckoning open fire
This place of exile
Is offering up power

Strike the soft part, of the abdomen
Look just below, the bottom of the sternum
Aim up over liver, and through the diaphragm
Terminate a heart’s, pounding rhythm

A prophet for a fugitive
An aristocrat of misfortune
Queen of the damned

Cast down the rocks
No time for sharpening sticks
Open up your gates
To this sphere of experience
There may be a way out
Of this dead-end existence
Imagine your command
The thought-form will cover the distance

Strike the soft part, of the abdomen
Look just below, the bottom of the sternum
Aim up over liver, and through the diaphragm
Terminate a heart’s, pounding rhythm

A prophet for a fugitive
An aristocrat of misfortune
Queen of the damned

credits

from Perfect Monster, released October 1, 2016

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