Eternal Dismemberment Complex Songtext

Underestimated, spreading out contagious oversaturation.
Strengthened apparitions beat away aggression's altered state.
Pretentions crunch in anaesthesia, conscious anaesthesia, huh?
Weave the worm through, bound to being the bait that I am,
Spilling ominous trails of blood from rejection,
And as foul as it all is, of an autacoids stench,
Numb from holding it in for too long forgotten,
And even if it's true, what's been said

Never mind 'bout not having to flinch
Being one step ahead of yourself made anagrams of your stealth
Attitudes insignificant lost in everlasting sickness, Writhe in instinct,
Anachronistic, brick-by-brick shutting out all reflections of size
Letting it go backwards, fall then materialize,
In remorse, incomplete killed in spite of defeat.

As conclusive accomplishments cannibalize more lies,
As wise as you are, regret's designed the scars
That mark the rest of your sheltered life's logistics.
Soaked in rapture, clean clots. unebbed dead?
To cull the rumour going 'round,
That're occurring fucking sound.

Emptiness, denial, thoughtlessness,
Sadistic ties surmise, fantasise,
To make that vertigo go away and make forever everyday.
Not even in itself is the self right, it's taken as nothing
Necessity just to keep giving something.
It's selfish.

Laziness, desire, sacrifice, a dream.
The spawn of hypocrisy's birthed opportunity offering reasons,
Soul, waste of time, not even unexplained
Maybe forthright, there could be a purpose
I think destiny told me so, last nights intro,
In utero, I've carried spawn for hates.

Cut the guiding apostle, taking dues from underneath,
Footing swept from beneath, the realm of a place I'll never go
Brick-by-brick retention, altered shape rejection
Chameleon's mould to the outcome,
Distorting the mirrors, reflecting the view,
Bait that I am.

Grinding paranoia calculating from a distance,
Between difference, different sides collide an unmissing stride,
Running on agony, racing to answers that's finding out something that's
Stapled itself necessary, not to be true. Life's simple?
Democratic tantamount in impotence.
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