What We Have Become

Between The Buried And Me

Is this justifiable, this is life we lead. Blind

stares at what we call humanity.

So afraid to face what has already become of us. The

dark cloud passed lifetimes ago. The "saints" drink

the blood of their own. Your pathetic prayers mean

nothing for...

Our mother is already dead. She tried her best but the

dirt choked her. We raped her, and laughed as we

fucked her last chance of survival.

I sleep on her tears. They keep me awake. I fear that

closing my eyes might end me. But what am I? I'm just

a worthless member of a twisted language.

We all speak this twisted language. Is this

justifiable?

We have raped her, and we are pleasured from this.

Thinking this progress... progress stopped lifetimes

ago. We are raping with this life we lead. Everything

is all right. Lies-the twisted language we all

breathe.