Come to Grips

The Dreams

Come To Grips



Death awaits for i to be free
Free from the soul of he
Who lives inside of me

He silently stands within me to hide
To give him some abundance of time
To come up with some institutional crime
To feed this dysfunctional mind

I am the product of his obsession
I am the deliverance of his destructive delusion
I am to show his illustrated illusion
So I ask God what is the solution
To this mans revolution

Closing my faith in my hand
I walk upon the cemetery sand
The damned shall rise
Feed my eyes the devils lies
Whimper of the child's cries
When he realized everyone must die.