Bonfire of the Insanities
In this world
I would sever the hand to spite the scar
My dreams are a barren desert
An ocean of sand and bad ideas
But the deserts enrich the sea
As far as the eye could see
All the riverbeds have dried
And I am left to chose between the
Sin and the sword
Cold comforts rot the mind
As the war feeds on itself
And like a Judas or Antichrist
I have the face that I deserve
But gone is the Turin Horse
And unchained is the Earth from the Sun
Here, the Devil's laughter is heard
When I am left to chose between the
Sin and sword
I'll be damned
I'll be damned
