The guilt trip
Peter Dolving
Crawl inside it
Become the sickness
Drink it
Elevate the threshold
Destroy the mind
And you suffocated
You learn to hate (yourself)
And take one the blame
As it burns
(sweeping the ghosts away)
(but they keep coming back)
And it burns
(the sky is turning red)
It burns
We're right at the end
And it's all dead quiet at the centre of the pain
Tighten the noose
Ascend the scaffold
And give in
Assume the position
Bow down your head
A ritual to purify
Undo what is, absolve
Everlasting the torture
And it's all dead quiet at the centre of the pain