---

SINS OF THE SICKWhat a fine day to be aliveLiving your life in sorrow and syncopation.And with this knife, I thee wed my Life and death and memoryBut, this voice will not refrainIt's sustained in my mental cavityStill they keep seeping throughYet, I try to keep the monsters at bayI resist, no, they can't have controlThey ask of me to commit wrongful deedsNo, they won't have my soulMutanous breed inflictingThe pain on the sufferingCounting on the sins of the sickBodies piling numbers increasingOpen state of rancorSick device of the torturedDisgusted sight of butcheryThat contributed to miseryDistributed to miseryBlood is clottingWill not flow without self lividityBlood will followLimb and limbPile on the floorSickeningIncomprehensible goreThe disease of inhuman breedsUpon each other feedI stand amongst the companyOf multiple dead bodies