Serene disarray, sedition of a thousand chances, leads forth my dismay
A conundrum, it is in here I think that I died, my soul ripped apart but I’m still breathing
Grand punishment, my wrongs are all that I can call my own, now I’m the one who’ll f#cking pay
A constant despair, it might just eat what’s left of my mind, another journey to the reprise
A long hopeless search, a severed piece of cosmic strangeness, leads me to desolation
I am the constant, a speech of a strange method grieving, chronicling the coming rapture
The psychographer, whose scribblings desecrate these walls, in the hearts of all wraiths
In search of the void, basking in the heights beyond every wrath, the lurker of the barathrum
The thirst which holds all the keys
Absorbed in an endless denial
Disgust for my b#sti#l flesh
The sacred disgorge my remains
I watch as the skies turn to red, they’ll take me far from this moon
The darkness constitutes for an endless and immeasurable return
These scars here only represent, the friends who left me behind
My limbs are only a farce, my eyes are what holds the true terror
The scopeless inferno below
Its opulent materials sedate
I drink from the lake of blood and fire
Its entrails expose me as a liar
These dissidents ploy against me, in an attempt to caress me
A consistent descent of the damned, we pray to the newfound flesh
Thrashing inside the rotting womb, drowning in a pool of vomit
Opaque signs from the ghost of decay, what could it make of my screams
The abyss in the distance gives its mysterious commands, it fails me, with this wound
I indulge the celestial matter with lustrous content, my form, it disgusts
A tool of corruption meets the needs that I desire, anguish, undignified
The doppelgänger breeds toxicity to combat its torment, spreading, their malady
Burning from within they express their discontent, swarming, with the locust
The aimless wanderer is maliciously misled, exploiting, their gloom
I leave the field, abandoning my search
And I leave behind, all my superficial desires
On the dawn of my expulsion, I undergo a strange surgery
A carnival of unknown origin with its face burned into me
A baffling problem of this so-called utopia, blasted from below the earth
The demolished zone littered with unearthed masks, an anomaly for the stars
A bloodless body of the celestial depicting only its most gruesome grimace
Rebirthing its lively nature, engulfed by my own condemnation
No more will I dream
My passions they fade here
Ruled by my creation
My own abomination
I carry this demon
It sits here on my back
I hear its voice in me
It tells me what to think
It clears my mind for me
All its thoughts are mine
It made me its psychograph
Why won’t it f#cking die?
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Benighted Illusion Lyrics – The Psychographer