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von Year of the Knife

Wasting away
Losing myself
Living decay
In this unending hell

Temple destroyed
Mind full of rot
Days bleed together
I′m falling apart

Sacrifice
Flesh and bone
Ritual blōt
To become a clone


Another day
Masking the fear
Asking myself
Why am I here?

Can't be what you want me to be
Just a copy of a copy
All I had to give is gone
Why the fuck should I hold on
Should I hold on?

Try to be perfect, pristine
Casualty of the machine
Carelessly cutting
Draining and sucking
Until there is fucking nothing

Can′t be what you want me to be
A copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a
Won't be what you want me to be
A copy of a copy of a copy of a copy