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Cult Leader
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A Good Life
Drunk on the venom from the mouths of snakes.
The taste was bitter,
It broke me down.
It stained my insides with the mark of Cain.
My own mother won't say my name.
Raised by the wind and freezing rain.
The gates of heaven have shut again.
A perfect little worm feasting on dirt.
A good life wasted longing for pain.
Hidden in the dark watching lovers weep.
Every heart will break and never heal again.
I stand alone watching a perfect little worm as it feeds on dirt.
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