1. |
Noose;Necktie
03:07
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We watched our steps in the land of the dead. You were nothing more to me than a death sentence. Your voice speaks only poison words bathed in a bloody tongue that lies and twists the truth. All this time I've spent selling my soul for you; I swear I'll never go. Open the door and take a step in. Open your eyes and seek the truth.
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2. |
Wayward
03:52
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This love lost between us is an ocean of horror, An empty sea of dismay; let us pray for redemption. Words stain the air, day after day. A lone voice cries out above the waves, "What grace is this?" As we stretched our hands out to the Lord, we saw the light fade from our eyes, and as we fell we realized that our last breath had been without God's grace and left us stranded, dead. I waited patiently for the Lord, He turned to me and heard my cry, He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand, He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord, our love is but a walking shadow, a poor layer, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more.
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3. |
The Mayhem Mascot
03:03
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I'll wear a mask with no eyes, and I'll blind myself with light. Untruth; falsehood lies; I hear them whispered to me, drifting into my ear, yet they’re spilling from my own mouth. I cannot see from where they came, but I have no obligation to my vision. Faith will be our living breath.
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4. |
Catastrophe ' Trophy
03:36
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My eyes have left me now, and all I crave is light. It's a global affair. Remove this haze from my eyes. Ashes; the ash is rising from the back of my throat It seems I can't quite remember why this world we created was such a waste of time, and I can't quite recall all the things you said but I could tell you word for word. A plague unto our houses. You brought me back.
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5. |
Rusty Shackleford
05:15
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The tongue doesn’t speak what the heart wishes to hear. I’ll sing this song. We deny all of this grace that we received while we were undeserving and out of time, but we’re all waiting for something that can’t be named. So great it can’t be named. Tread carefully, my son, for they will speak daggers but use none from the clouds to the grave and back again, backwards and upside down. They will fight the waves, but I won’t protest the tides. It’s all in your head. Could you please redirect my motion? Am I asleep? Or have I just gone blind? Is this reality? Or has the world lost its mind? It’s all in your head.
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