3: Pale Postmen Poking Parasites

Its my final escape, will you come with me?
Your insides, these lies, will turn them black.
But once youve gone through, theres no turning back.
No save point, nothing more.
Come on baby, walk through my door.
(Hold onto me, and we'll see, what lies before..)

And my conscience says its wrong..
But I must be way to strong to let it sway me.
Dont question it these poeple will take care of you.
Who cared to question at what cost?
At what cost?
Why, wont you cry, over spilt milk.
(Youve cried over other things, but this is something else.)

So dont cross the line, but its not even there.
There are no moral fibers, even if they were your own hair.
(So say you stamped rebel on your chest?
Claim to be the best,
But your not different than the rest), brutal-less fatalities,
Bent driven to be, a self compelled and driven tragedy, your fuel was your lust, but now its me,

So when will you get your fill?
Stomach full of nothing, here, nothing here.
Im obviously not enough, so tell me, what will it take.

Now, is when your final days have come,
Dont yell, dont even run,
You cant escape your treachory, and you are now nothing left to me.