Are you ready?

Your fingers throb
As your blood pumps through
The veins in your hands
You're grippin' that gun
Like it's your only friend
You exist to serve
imaginations
Your reality is cause
for offence

We clutch the finger of God
to our chest
And it brings us
a few steps closer
We swim through enigmatic
oceans of depravity
If only to feed
on what there is to see

I sat and watched and played and saw
and never understood why
I needed to be one with
my addiction
This bright and sweet decay
bleaches and suffocates
Yet I still can't see the light
of benediction

Kill the Wabbit
Kill the Wabbit

There is no peace and no truce
There are no lies in the noose
There is no folly that we can't rectify
There is no fault of our own
We reap not that which we've sown
We need to live the lies that pacify

Kill the Wabbit
Kill the Wabbit

See also:
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