Showbread. No Sir, Nihilism Is Not Practical. Dead By Dawn. Zeneszám

Tonight's twilight will be the last seen by our eyes,
So if it seems so beautiful, kiss the beauty goodbye,
Oh my little cornea, please say that you are no more,
And ears please swear you did not hear this creaking in the cabin floor,
I'll forgive my eyes for lovely lies, so certainly within my will,
Please declare this piercing stare,
So false, at a clock that's standing still.

Such pretty skin, give it to us,
The sun won't wise my spirit dies,
All hope has withdrawn,
So here I lay because either way,
I know we'll all be dead by dawn,
Dead by dawn.

Arming shotgun shells this rotting smell lingers on words that were said,
Her body in pieces, my hand cut away,
the ever-enchanting book of the dead,
The sun won't rise, my spirit dies, All hope has withdrawn,
So here I lay because either way I know we'll all be dead by dawn.
A chainsaw can remove a limb or act as a replacement,
Smell the gas as hours pass, contrary to my statement,
The corpses wish to cover me with kisses,
So just maybe I'll cover this cabin with their blood,
Hail to the king baby.