Альбом The Devil Wears Prada

Whatever happened to the integrity found within a family?
I return your glare, and my bones are chilled with some sort of sickening recipe of fear and anger.
Day by day, time after time again, you distort chronology, you foster of terror.
Bury your diamonds, destroy your rubies.
We are searching for security in tradegy.
Look around and notice the black (tapestries) drowning (our walls of) simplicity.
We are the constant decay.
Each note will disintegrate.
Perched upon our towers, motionless and miserable.
Here's to a comfortable casket.
How deceiving is the cemetery of motivation.
I wish to write a conclusion

You've compromised your doctrines
You've surrendered yourself to fashion.
Come back to your faith; Come back to grace.
He sang with us and loved others.
The death of obsession.
The blood relationship, creates such a rotten demise.
Oh Lord.
Such blackness portrays the love of a machine.
I did not want you to join this culture.
So how can you be so proud?
Pray to the heavens, with whatever it takes.
I wish to shine this light back upon you.
It's obvious that apocalyptic barriers (will give) no mercy to fashion.
You've compromised your doctrines.
You've surrendered yourself now

And yet i've been cleansed with the water.
a purity no mind can grasp.
a purity so cool upon my fingertips.

the vision that i've seen: this is the action that spawns from the end.
for the longest time, i've been watching the world breathe against (spiderwebs).

what lies here are mountains composed of tombstones.

examine these beautiful faces, keep singing now. keep singing.

will we push bedlam noise to the state of blissfulness?
display her beauty to the people.
a purity no mind can grasp

The concept of fashion is the one to blame: painting the portrait of
conviction-less existence. well, it must be difficult being so
gorgeous. claiming to be the kings and queens but it's all of
nothing
this shall pass. megalomania. congratulations on
mutiliation for a life
i'm going to hope for you, i'm going to pray
for you amongst the wreckless and the black
salvation lies within.
my time is your's my friend. we all find ourselves so horribly weak
(Oh God,) here's an offering

I would like to burn this down.
I would like to see it melt in yellow and observe a cloud of blackness rise.
Watch it rise as it is wrath himself.
Watch it rise.
Crows will flee the scene as if to remind me how long it's been since I have seen a dove.
Melt in yellow as I do.
Exhaustion and mother of tribulation.
Wound by wound.
I torture myself.
Wound by wound, I will perservere.
Whiteness, present yourself, as I know you are the sky and anchor of my being.
What we've known is like cigarettes.
Formaldehyde fingers

I wish to turn around and return (to her warmth and laughter),
but this calling is strong, and denial is impossible.
No measure of weight can justify what now presses into my chest.
To the road, your freedom is awesome,
but does it compare to the sweet embrace of my love?
Our convictions engraved by her marvelous hands.
My ears are upon the brink of detonation,
and the mud amongst the passage of my throat is drying to permanence.
Harvest the crop of memories.
To what's true, I offer thanks.
I've found what's pure and I've found what's sweet.
We are not barren

I am the speaker but what is responsibility?
This is beg of you, build me brick upon brick.
High tides; waves of hypocrisy.
I didn't think the clock struck more than twelve times.
I decided to name her insomnia.
"Her teeth (show) like white seeds in a scarlet fruit"
This I must tell you, old friend: fear beauty.
This is meager, this is feeble.
She was only a fiction and my creation

Bring it to your lips and experience the sulfur infect everything that we've created.
Don't twist this around.
Don't attempt to justify what we know is wrong.
Tendons are torn and screams are released into a poisoned, mathematic atmosphere.
We're composing our funeral songs, note by note.
With this I declare that tomorrow is an allusion.
What if the clouds are fragments of mistakes,
fabricated by the factories of our foolishness?
We're composing our funeral songs, note by note.
Prove me wrong

Distance decreases as if time is a dying cockroach.
Plagues enclose.
Sitting upon this wooden bench, I am helpless to billions of bullets.
In this moment I am helpless.
Why is it so difficult to see ourselves?
No poem I've wrote, Nor song I have sung, can halt the army of wrath.
Numbers Numbers Numbers Numbers.
In this moment I am helpless.
Serpents will transform into mice only to drown in the deepest red.
I've always expresses my thoughts in colors, but we remain blind.
Numbers Numbers Numbers Numbers

Climbing into fire, her hands are forceful.
We're burying earth in earth.
White hands, soft hands: carefully.
This makes no sense.
What's that sound I hear?
I'm lost in a state of confusion.
Oh ground.
I despise you, but rejoice in your essence.
Envy will cease my sky.
Greed will cease my sky.
"Here's a farmer that hung himself on the expectation of plenty"
At this time I feel there is no bottom to earth.
Welcome to the museum of the dead; endless gore becomes reality.
Tradition's dug the grave.
The inferno has commenced