Melancolia - God Tongue

Failure of flesh
Depicted in ironic dread
Absolved of nothing
Atone in utter existence

We all rot in the garden of flesh
Bloat divine in reeds of nothingness

Swallow the bread and vomit the moral
Forced into flesh, they consider this normal?
Imperfect minds, bio-illogical mess
You too will rot in the garden of flesh

Mass of mistakes, writhing as utter waste
It pulls strings in your chest
In an attempt to take you with it

We all will rot in the garden of flesh
Nothing more, nothing less we all cease to exist

Created in its image
Referenced from a broken mirror
Condemned genetically, inevitably forced to slither
Place on a crooked path and forced into the wrong direction

Mark the sign of the cross this is now heathen season

And as we kneel on the bed of nails all is forgiven
So long as all of us are obedient
Communion granted only under command
Privileged punishment promised in salvation

We're much too coward to piss upon eden
So spread your legs, accept the crucifix
Rosaries choke just like a noose
Sadomasochistic us to submission

Failure of flesh
Depicted in ironic dread
Absolved of nothing
Atone in utter existence

We all will rot in the garden of flesh
Nothing more, nothing less we all cease to exist