Hatesphere - Last Cut, Last Head Lyrics
They read him like an open bookBut the pages were blankBefore he took the first stepIn a new directionEmpty head, imperfectionSecond step still humbleWithout eyes the hands fumbleLike his feet that wear no skinA ***** man, man of sinThree steps that hurt like hellHow did he get hereAnd where will he dwellWith bloody feet and an empty headWish he could sayWhat cannot be saidAs the fourth step was takenEthics were shakenAnd the end result:Sanity forsakenNo more fumble, no longer humbleA cut of precisionA part of his missionThe road is blurryThe mission is clearThe bag is heavyHis goal is nearWith bloody feet and an empty headWish he could sayWhat cannot be saidFinal step in the dance of the deadLast cut, last head