1. REMAINS OF THE GODS

If you still don't believe that I can restore myself under your crown, then watch me as I decapitate this serpent head of vanity. I used to be wary of you, now I'll make your skin crawl at the thought of me. You once thought me a fool, but titles change so easily. As you'll see now, who's the fool and who is king? Who's dying, and who's triumphing? You'll learn your lesson from a monster once defied by none. And now I'm finally able to say you all share this common trait: Her heart was cold long before her eyes made her stone. You'll see; they'll tell this story for ages to come She didn't see me hovering above her like the halo she abandoned. Likewise I never laid eyes on the scales of her skin. My dexterity terrified her; I charmed the blood right out of her neck, and while her body collapsed to the floor, I grabbed a hold of her head. Held it up, dripping, to its own reflection. And forced her to behold her internal demon. My battle cry will always echo in her death rattle As I left, you seemed so certain that I would falter, but you mistook my confidence for pride. I never boast of bloodshed unless I have the heads to prove my slaughter. And with her once writhing skull in my grasp at long last, and with her wretched, glaring visage burned into my shield, and with the knowledge that I'm stronger than you'll ever be, it's time to regain my throne I'll cut a crown of serpents from her hair to replace the one you used to wear.


2. OBITUARY

When night seems to wrap me in exhaustion, and I keep wishing I could start the day again, sleep takes its sweet time finding me; it's always bittersweet, it used to come so easily. For when I'm discovered, the fever starts all over. And death leaves dreams to be desired What could be more enticing than a painless ending? You don�t need to rock me so fast; I know the tremors haven't passed. It's not the fear that makes me tremble, but the sweat on my face you keep trying to wipe away. I've never been this cold. If you could just lend me your eyes, then I might find the strength to see a different light. Or maybe I could close my lids without seeing the words burned onto the back of them: "You'll never find it, you'll never be found"


3. A GUARDIAN IN A PASSERBY

Time likes to flirt with me. He knows I'm watching as he passes. He is merciless with my lust. He won't give me the satisfaction of glancing back my way. I can't seem to get enough of the way he tastes. It's like I'm always watching him watching him walk away. I's true Time will never stop for me. And he might not even be there when I need him at the end, but I will stand by this man until he gives up on me. Don't give up on me. I reach for him and he pushes away. It seems, just when I feel him in my hands, he's tempted to release. Please hold onto me. When he is not always so cautious, I can see he cares. Sometimes he visits on long nights when I'm lonely. He might be inconsistent, but at least he's faithful. I know he'll always be back. In the meantime, I can handle this whirlwind life. He leaves a note when he sneaks away in the middle of the night. It's these mornings I wish he would protect me from the world. There is no greater strength than Time. Well, he can't be bothered when he's busy. He's gone more often lately and for longer. I have always wanted the unattainable But it's not like me to depend so on a man.


4. THE HUNT

A transparent heart can't hide its blackest wish. Even blood, pounding deceit, only makes your motives clearer. Your scheme to conceal the desire may be wise, but I can still see lust hidden in your famished eyes. Now that you've shed your skin, you suppose it's time to feed? Well, I won't be your submissive prey; I've tamed my share of beasts. Now that you've shed your skin, don't assume its time to feed. Suspicion is the blood that lingers on the meat. Love is often gilded with a glaze of deceitful bliss to hide the darkness underneath. It's not what it seems. It's not what it appears to be. Suspicion is the blood that lingers on the meat. The more you devour, the more you crave the taste of the life you profess to care for. You will remain a slave to your own satisfaction until you drain the starvation from your eyes and see that I, too, know how to kill. I will fucking kill.


5. LETTER TO MY ABUSER

To my nemesis, my confidant:

Do not expect me to make more requests.

I have done penance for my sins.

You're in debt to me one thousand promises.

Just yesterday, I went again to collect what I'm owed.

I found my dreams showered upon undeserving wretches

like bones dripping blood thrown to mangy strays. And my secrets were being vomited

from the mouths of glistening gluttons while I stood empty-handed and exposed.

You've abused your power

Angel, you have fallen once more from my good graces. I'm sick, I've prayed,

I've seen healthy men healed by your touch

when I'm the one who needs your love.

It's a hypocrite's faith, a hypocrite's world.

I am not awed by your presents

if they only suit the ones already blessed.

Your son lies raped in the dirt that you've made.

Are you willing to sacrifice another child?

Bloodthirsty liar, how am I supposed to trust you

when the knife is in your hand?

And the gash that I own whispers to an enemy

thoughts I had buried.

Creator, you're my destructor.

Am I not your daughter?

My insides displayed to the world.

Are you not my father?

My insides displayed to the world.


6. FRACTURED BY THE FALL

This frustration is mounting, and my greed is so overbearing.

It seems as if I'm never satisfied with the precious things I possess.

Could it be that this means nothing? Or am I worshipping false and empty idols?

I've got the Holy Grail,

but where's my wine to fill it?

I've been blessed with the Midas touch,

now where are my diamonds?

I've found the Fountain of Youth,

which grants eternal life,

just to realize Heaven only welcomes the dead.

Dead-end paths to my happiness.

What I seek can never be achieved.

The winged horsed knows a boundary,

a mountaintop I cannot reach.

Could it be each day we fly higher,

I'm plummeting further from my dreams?

All I ever wanted was more,

even if it meant exploiting you.

You just served as transportation to my forbidden destination;

to the lands inhabited by the Gods.

To whoever finds this note,

I'm only writing to relate my disgust for the whole of humanity,

including me.

All hope is lost...


7. THE STATIC MASSES

Even when I was younger

I could feel your slimy sculptor's hands shaping every uneven feature of my body after your fantasies.

Forever crafted to a silent

excessive perfection.

Fingers digging out all visible flaws,

yet you still aren't satisfied with your work.

I'll never breathe or blink or look you in the eye.

I'll never show a single sign that I'm alive.

The time will come to break the chisel

that hacked away our trust.

I'll never speak or think or spit straight in your eye. I'll never show a single sign I can defy.

You need to understand it's what you've done to all of us.

As you approach, I'll always freeze right where I'm standing, heart beating faster under the cold,

hard clay that has become my skin.

It's buried so deep,

you'd never know it was there. But you're seeking something.

I can see it when you examine my every feature for something more than what you've designed.

I'll never breathe or blink or look you in the eye.

I'll never show a single sign that I'm alive.

The time will come to break the chisel that hacked away our trust.

I'll never speak or think or spit straight in your eye. I'll never show a single sign I can defy.

You need to understand it's what you've done to all of us.

Weighed down by my own heavy splendor, I'm just a statue to pose at your parties, surrounded by a stiff, leering mass groping for a feel of the new old trend.

But what more can I give you besides my rigid presence?


8. GUIDING THE NORTH STAR

In a world of such complex pathways we all feel lost.

No one could ever understand your directions

They used to be crystal clear

But they've been smeared by all the fingerprints

Of wanderers along your obscured path

Our messages all got tangled in their journeys from mouth to ear



White noise is filtered out as I submerge my head

Beneath the ocean I can't seem to escape

Pathways are scarce down here, and no one needs to find their own way,

No one wants to explore their own fate

The current takes them to where they should be

It's easier than to realize who you are, or that you've made a mistake



In a place where isolation washes through your lungs

Like acid and leaves you empty and burning

My message was crystal clear

But it's been muted by all the footsteps

Of wanderers along this obscured path

Our images all got distorted in their journeys through our memories



If I don't respond, it's because I can't hear you, and my brain is turning red

From being alienated for so long

I think I might have been abandoned under the surface

This way they can't hear me screaming

This way they can't feel me biting

This way they can't feel me scratching

This way they can't hear me

The sounds are far quieter in a world where no one lives

The pain is much fiercer when you can't force someone else to feel it



If the earthen course would have taken me through bitter wars and meager comforts

At least I would have never known

The loneliness I failed to endure

Whose vastness reaches past the depths of the sea I have drowned myself in.


9. YOUR DEVOTED VICTIM

As a child,

monsters always haunted your panicked dreams.

This time you're the vampire,

and though it's cruel reality,

you're still trapped in a suffocating fantasy,

living out your most gruesome reverie.

When will you let me wake you

from this painful dreaming?

Don't you realize you're killing in your sleep?

With claws of carelessness and fangs of apathy,

ripping holes in the flesh

of the people you once esteemed,

just to smell the freshness

of their final breaths and their blood.

Yours went stale a long time ago.



You'll change your addiction

to appease your conviction.

You've built quite the tolerance

for your previous obsession,

but your new devotion

requires some compassion;

in the face of diversity,

your tolerance is lacking.



Now you've indulged

your feral temptations.

You've awakened, and you say

that you've had a vision of enlightenment,

that you wish to be cleansed and saved.

Wash yourself clean in a blessed stream.

But there's no such thing;

and it's never that easy.

Innocence can't be bought

with a confession.

You can't just empty your sins

into a pit of salvation.

The guilt eats you just

as you devoured your family.

Why do you need a savior

when you could rescue yourself

from the fear that drives your hate?



You'll change your addiction

to appease your conviction.

You've built quite the tolerance

for your previous obsession,

but your new devotion

requires some compassion;

in the face of diversity,

your tolerance is lacking.



What did I do to

deserve such silence,

such violence?

On your quest for self-destruction,

you destroy us all.

As you feast on the last of your own blood,

and taste the venom left behind,

you consume my desiccated heart,

and drain the consciousness from my mind.

Take pity on me,

your devoted victim.

Take pity on me;

this sacrifice won't set you free.

Beware of the soul-saver;

he's not your friend.

Why do you ask His forgiveness?

I'm the one you've mistreated.

Now ask yourself,

are you truly born again?

Your pedestal reeks of death.

A thick film of denial now coats your veins.

There are hardly any left to penetrate.

You had a life that refused to wait

for you to make another mistake.

You're bound to make another mistake.


10. THE LAST CATASTROPHE

(instrumental)