Woorden: Impending Doom. Children Of Wrath.

Take a bite of the sickness
(Sickness)
And feel the rush of your desire
When you act upon your urges
(Urges)
So begins a period of decent
Deception
I am a tainted man
With a wretched mind
I am ashamed of myself again and again
I don't need another pointed finger
I don't want to hide
Just to find myself
I come to you filthy
Take a bite of the sickness
And feel the rush
Save me
Save me
Save me
Because I can't save myself
I hate religion
I DON'T NEED A CULT!
The world doesn't need any more fakes
I have committed cosmic plagiarism
I was a self-proclaimed god
A mirror image of a cheap imitation
Those we thought were on top
Quickly fall to the bottom
When judgment drops
In death, shame fills the black
And immortal soul
We were never meant to save ourselves
I hate religion
I DON'T NEED A CULT!
The world doesn't need any more fakes
So I walk a new path
No one chooses for me