[Lyrics : Josh Hillier] [Songwriting : Chris Homer, Jack Higgs]
An eerie despondency conjures as certitude deteriorates.
The impending lone wolf unearths disturbance amongst,
As the mother weeps for her forgiveness.
Illicit betrayal, to trigger and bring forward the silent murderer.
The once devoted fore-bearer, becomes the executioner.
She lays lifeless on the cold basement floor,
Wounded from a blow to the head.
The murder kin, tied to a chair.
Blind with rage, he performs the persecution.
Driving a blunt shiv into her stubborn chest.
Rupturing the organs in her torso,
Each laceration more intended to kill than the last.
The children cry as blood sprays forth to the walls.
Bile spews from her gaping wound,
As her skin becomes pale
And her limbs turning limp.
Her life drains as he continues to dig.
Her lifeless corpse is nothing but an empty vessel,
Left hanging on the wall to rot.
He turns to the young, with no remorse of what he has done.
He gawks maniacally at them, as they squirm.
He determines their fate.
He grabs a tank of gasoline.
Despondent yet obstinate on cessation,
Pours the liquid drenching them head to toe.
He senses a force of repression as he tries to strike the match,
But he knows there is no turning back.
The children ignite,
With the blink of an eye, the iridescent gulf of the flame illuminates the room as they die.
He stands there watching as they curl up and blacken, Bodies contort and dead.
The fire slowly subsides as all that's left was just ash and remains.
The room exudes of the stench, of burning flesh as the man he drops to his knees.
With this burden that is over his head, he is inept to persistence.
The guilt it becomes insufferable,
Before he draws the barrel to his temple,
Without hesitation he pulls the trigger and paints the walls.
Thus concluding the crucifixion,
A heinous yet beautiful art form.
A kindred massacre.