Lyrics
I enter the village of witches, I'm lookin for people who down to befriend me/
Who willing to know and accept the extremes of the Wraith, who will not offend me/
But I'll be damned if even those of some distant relation, showin me patience/
Helpin me break from the curse that I'm in, and guidin my way to salvation/
Who my loved ones? And who da ones who lovin me?/
Unconditional? Nah! Everyone know that nuthin's free/
I'd rather be dead, but I tried that once, and look at me now! Oh, heaven forgive me!/
Will the Lord absolve my sins? Will he choose an angel to send me?/
Sometimes I wish to just damn this nigga called Paimon, dig up a hole, and throw myself down in the pit with a kinjal embedded deep into me heart and be done wit it all!/
But I'm driven, like a, like a Monte Carlo! And for my arrogance I have been forced, to unveil the sword till it's all restored, for the Lord!
Deep inside my soul burns a rage like none other/
Along with that rage accompanies a pain that cannot be smothered/
Any presence I detect will only belong to Paimon's legions/
No Holy Spirit, no promised savior, only Paimon's demons/
Carryin messages, and orders for me to go witta kinjal gripped, to get ready ta rip through flesh and soul, to those who blaspheme against the Goetia!/
When I got thrown to the cart of Ankou, Father Time offered a deal/
To walk as an agent among of the living, an Undead Wraith, and my soul was sealed/
But I don't feel love no more, only hate, displayed in my violent actions, no pleasure, no satisfaction do I get from any interaction/
Let it be written, one day, I will find a way to be free of this misery/
When that day has come to pass, all that was said and was done will be nuthin but history, at last!/
It's like a childhood that been raped from the mind by those willing to use you as only a tool/
They have forced my hand, so I come from the front, not the back, and I come to leave you in a pool/
Of vitae, my conscience it doth tell me my motion in life is justified/
But the Wraith doth take the seeds of life even though from the start it really wasn't mine/
Yet I look to my task for a bit of comfort, who can blame me? In my state, would you do any different, it's all you got!/
In this wretched sentence/
Of Undeath, where my pain doth ache all day, no wonder I love what I do, devotin my focus to rippin them open and lettin them rot while I'm hopin they hopin/
That something of comfort, some spirit will come with a parcel of rest and peace/
So they'll see that such things don't come, and they'll feel what I feel, before they deceased/
They face in but minutes the feelings that I live with, copin with 24/7 a day/
So fuck them and you all, better hope that you never encounter the Wraith!/
