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Process of decay, the body rots

In the box, nailed tight shut

A future we await, that dooms us all

The reaper's call, the spool unwound

An empty hourglass breaks hard and fast

On the stone floor of eternity

There's a serpent in the garden

There's a devil in your midst

How quickly your hearts harden

Desecrated bliss

Body rots away, the maggots feed

Consuming need, vessel transformed

Corpus arescet, moldered filth

A pungent reek

There's a serpent in the garden

There's a devil in your midst

How quickly your hearts harden

Desecrated bliss

Enabling the madness

With age it just gets worse

Enveloped in their sadness

The family tree is cursed

Fetid stench of the deceiver

Panicked constantly, mired in their nonsense

Fomenting greed, seeking worldly consequence

To trust others is weak

To show them deep emotion

A faceless being, drowning in an ocean

Can you breathe?

The fetid stench of the deceiver

Plying you with guilt

The torment never ends

There will be consequence, consequence for wickedness...

The fetid stench of the deceiver

Filling you with hate

There will be consequence, consequence for wickedness...

Your death