SICKSHINE


Panacea Lyrics

Fictional form of an elemental brain-washing since you
were born your authority remains watching your every
gesture your every breath and every movenent unless you
are absent and solitude is never granted where is this
sensation I was promised long ago did I let it slip did
I let it go I don't know But I can learn cause i don't
trust the teacher I don't trust the speaker or the
reaper or the PREACHER or the apple-seed philosophical
johnny-come-lately johnny-be-quickly johnny-be-
blatently blaming his problems on the Jones' holding
grudges in his computer to dig up dead bones of the
past with meticulous scrutiny and all of this iniquity
will lead yourselves to mutiny within the ranks every
chain has a weakest link answers are obvious but they
refure to think and so I'm forced to reform the truth
the light is untrustworthy it is percieved by you I'm
the shadow of the interstate walker amusement self-
sacrifice upon the alter the sun don't rise the sun
never really sets it only looks that way from our blind
perspective do you dream to be worthy to me any form of
existance is absurdity the breeding of confusion the
spreading of depression the poverty survivalist
mentality progression and this institution was
constructed out of knowledge and knowledge is awareness
and needs no apology accepting no excuses denying no
abuses the compulsive-behavior recipient never refuses
the hand out making the sore thumb stand out they never
had a chance cause the man had it planned out the
deceased abyss is calling me clouds carry out sub-
civilized fears all else will never decompose we look
insane in the sunlight long-distance hellfire we lean
into the pillars of the temple they teach us not to
worship the soul Outnumbered in hell as the wicked to
righteous many of both there is plenty of both the
maliciousness emptiness so inconsiderate knowing is
guiltness so is ignorance so is reluctance and knowing
numbers our days in more ways that one but what if our
days are done a riddle in the midst of a robbery
disguised as a gift and the spirit is lifted to the
presence of bliss it's indescribable in overflowing
psycho-bable to rant rave rejoice and ramble and a
fantasy of violence is nothing to be afraid of
cleansing my blood in what my hatred is made of

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