Laid To Waste
Gregor Mackintosh, Nick Holmes
Resent a sense of feeding, demanding bleeding
Unhinged a savage seeks a quest
Hollow heart's rapid beating
The pulse is high it's never ceasing
This cannot be a false pretense
As people arise I feel it
Stone cold, a passive disease, no chance of healing
You'll wonder if this is the end
The void submit to pass through
Fear the eyes staring at you
A time of unrivalled despair
As people arrive I feel their stare
You lived a life in chains
Your master could not save
You'll lose the grasp of gain
No method to your rage
You die a death each day
For some it seems to stay that way
Channels to feed your hate
Lying there for you to take
A place where fools attend
No prayers for you my friend
