Shamed by the weak and cast down in disgust
A shell of a broken man without trust
Preaching upon open ears of the deaf
Depraved words uttered beneath your cold breathe
Killing what's left of the embers of youth
Scraping and clawing for a whisper of truth
Sewing our mouths shut as nothing escapes
Love and grace is a display of a man you once were
But unlike the hand of Midas
What you touch will turn to sh*t
Blood will flow between us
And the ground will shake until you repent your sins
The touch of cold skin and the embrace of life
In darkness dwells secrets in a holy disguise
Nothing will soothe you, old hands will turn numb
Silence will not speak
But unlike the hand of Midas
What you touch will turn to sh*t
Burn this f*cking saviour
Until you see the damage you've cause