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Hellshot
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Martyr
Chained to a wall of your own construction
Your flesh is picked at each and every day
Promethean nightmare, you can never wake up
Die a little more to show us the way
A knife point so sharp, a prick in your hands
Will do the job so well
Blood starts to drip, stains your palms a deep red
It makes you pain much easier to sell
You can't scream with your mouth sewn shut Martyr Hammer the wood, grab the rope and the nails
Climb up don't ask anyone for help
It would defeat all of your work
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Your purpose and thinly veiled plan
You can't scream with your mouth sewn shut
Lower your coffin hands gripping the rope
Having the time of your life
Sycophantic
(Something) fanatic
With a front row to your six-foot swan dive
You can't scream with your mouth sewn shut Martyr There but for the grace of god do you go Martyr There but for the grace of god do you go
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