Plague My Days


What‘s it like to never see yourself?
To not know what you are, who you are?
And why your decisions are so destructive
I‘ve cured every illness in my life
But you rip our lives apart
And you rot away
You infect the room
And you rot away
You infect the room
And you rot away
What else can these blistered hands do?
Worn so fucking raw from swinging the hammer
To crush every mistake you‘ve ever made
To tired to continue
To lifeless to breath
To voiceless to scream
And you plague my days
And you rot away
Nothing you ever seem to regret
Because you have buried your conscience
Buried your conscience