The Last King - The Worst of It

I was warned that this day may come
The splitting of this cage that contains free will
I cannot feel, yet I feel everything:
The unmistakable tearing of my insides
I merely watch as my cells burn alive
There is no way I could ever salvage them

We've been deceived
There's no reprieve
No hope for mercy

My insides are being purged
Vacuumed into a vacant fucking grave
My useless flesh, no longer a prison
Better suited for rot and decay
Praying for the day I never feel again
My final cycle of misery

We set the stage for our own dismissal
Signing ourselves to a life of evil

A burning mass of useless flesh
The final phase of penitence

I can no longer feel a connection to myself

I am running from this state of mind
Omit control, bleeding from the inside
If I could fight this demon that dwells beneath
I pray you finally escape

I've discovered too much pain inside
Knowing that one day life will end

Setting the stage for our own dismissal
Signing ourselves to a life of evil

Extinction is a plague of sin
So overwhelming is the feeling of nothing
Synaptic pulses sputter out and die
What have I left behind?
The legacy of a hypocrite
What do we leave behind?
The fucking worst of it