Judas Christ Pt. 2

Fuzz of outgrown tentacles, on my wake I stand
The myth of a beast, the same they unearth
Skin, thy flesh, stiff veins I felt warmer

Rejected creation by an imperfect, vain Being
Thrown in hearth, molten so as to destroy
Fire in my fists, never designed to let you spared

The monster you thought you killed
The monster devouring, nourishing on you

Slave! I lash you with your lies, your throat
Enslaved by your abuses, by your greed
Legitimacy of your execution, all justified

Feel the swelling fury, boiling within my pot
Stewing hate, unforgiving your betrayal
Your filthy, blood soak dust, burning bright!

The beast you used to kick, you used to spit on
That beast will be having you for dinner

The mark of the beast is mine
The circles in my forehead shine

The truth, your lies can’t fabricate
The truth, fools like you can’t create…