The Suicide Children Lyrics


Begotten to a world of inescapable torments

Night on the blood mountain

An ever engulfing abyss below

Abnegated future, with the past never possessed

Nameless. Faceless. Ephemeral remembrance.

Filling oneself with excrement.

The suicide children.

Indentured to the fruitless servitude

Skinning each other alive.

Peeling the mask of contentment

Revealing vitriol flowing arterially.