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Victimology

from Exile by Exile

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lyrics

Where mother lost her life, I lost my chance at mine. Soaked in her blood for two days. Murder lingers in child's mind. I have no care for the expressions on their faces. For their sins they must atone. From what I came I shall remain. All that is left behind is a legacy of torture. Injected poison, mutilated corpses in the water. Body count rising one by one as I quickly trap myself, not an if, but a when. The evidence is hidden on a secret shelf. Every crimson drop is a chance for my exposure. My every movement brings the demise ever closer. Slipping beneath their vision. Their focus always on their miserable excuses for a reason to exist. Slaughter beneath their noses. Their interest laying dormant. Ignorant and unable to see what walks among them. Victims are idiots. Standing tall, I watch them fall. I drag them to their final resting place. They'll rot beneath the sea. Flesh consumed by fish. Bones cracked by the current. Until the tendons snap and wither before ceasing to exist. The final thing they see before they perish. My true self; the being that creates their hell. Immobilized, underneath a sterile veil. Recount your fuckups as you bleed on my table. Do you feel deaths cold grip as your pulse grows weaker? Do you see his pale face as he pulls you deeper? The hunger builds at the end of the cycle. I want your brains on the edge of the sidewalk. My hands shake, my heartbeat races. I am a pawn to my own obsession. I watched you spread the seeds of your disgusting life. I must consume your blood as a service. I feel nothing. It's how I help them. Or have I lost my mind? Victims are idiots. Standing tall, I watch them fall. I drag them to their final resting place. They'll rot beneath the sea. Flesh consumed by fish. Bones cracked by the current. Until the tendons snap and wither before ceasing to exist. Cut to pieces. Wrapped in plastic. Entrails exposed. Organs extracted. Sliced to pieces.

credits

from Exile, released December 16, 2016

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