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The Descent

I am the creator, the mouth of all my dreams and I donít care
I am the destroyer tear this world by the seams and I donít care,
I am the psychopomp take you places youíve never been and I donít care,
Wings of strength and lust pull us through the winds through despair,
And I donít care,

Bypass the tainted human mind,
Artifice upon assumption block the way,
The cluttered debris of two thousand years of decay,
A return to the foundation, Thoughts grind like claws against the glass,
Images stilled the bars of time exposed and shattered.

The legion that I have become has breached the walls,
Pierced from within by friendly fire
the gilded king within falls,

Iím twisting and flailing, cast through a meandering
Parade, through oblivion, through all the nothing that Iíve created,
The shreds of Osiris diluted through the ages,
Amongst the inert and the walking clay,
Separate and dispersed yet still all sympathetic,
Apexes of an infinite invisible web,
He lies, cloistered in the halls of wound gray,
Heads taken, hearts consumed the blind victor wins the day.

All lyrics by Rob Cook, Copyright 2002


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