F..k Your Dead Heart (Machinemade God)

Disease ridden, cobwebs reside in your head. Yet you remain walkin on this earth (Deceiving and demanding the best). A manifestation of agony gathers around your name. And I swear to god, I would murder you, if I knew how. Your name appearance, I searched for it among those tombstones... But at the sight of you I fled (Away from you darkened silhoutte). A plot to tear down the world, distrust and disbelief coincide until it is proven (otherwise). The consolation prize is a dagger and a knife, Handed to you on a silver plate with step by step instructions, Directing them into your chest. FUCK YOUR DEAD HEART!