See the barcode tattooed on the back of my neck?
Man is a number; Man is a number.
I am down on my knees, praying beyond belief,
the silence deafens my ears and welds the shackles onto my fears.

Revenge is so strong
I taste it in my mouth.
My hand will be
your angel of mercy.

Filled with pain, a bruised and darkened soul,
spare me from the life that's full of misery.
I've become what they detest, a delinquent survivalist,
without fear and no more regrets, they call me criminal.

Look to the sky
on Judgement Day.
A human God
that was man-made.

Have we become immune to life itself, or ourselves?
we have no control of destiny, we have no control of what's to be.
The conscious man is dead, and you buried him,
beneath the scarred tissue lies what's left of the soul of a man.

I am your judge
and your jury.
You don't get
any damn attorney.

With my verdict
guilty until provent guilty.
You will be an execution
of rightiousness and fury.

I welcome death with open arms,
her soft breath and simple charms.
Wandering through memories,
taks my hand for me to see.

When we finally reach the end,
she lets of of my hand.
Waking into realms of light,
there will be no death tonight.

08/16/2004