I will rise, Lazarus style,
From the other side of life.
From the decay of the morals,
With blood written on my knife.
Forlorn dung, my songs unsung,
I'll reclaim every inch of lost pride.
Unfavorable the wind, forced to rescind,
Subservient on my side.
The villains in the chain, all in terrible pain,
Will rot alive in their grisly lives.
Apparatus of blame, broken into lame,
I'll burn their entire poison hive.
All my moments of suffering, will now bring,
A curse on the deeds of them,
Who did what they did, their crimes they hid,
Innocent I was always blamed.
Worms will eat their eyes, their screams muffled by,
An insect in their vocal chord.
Lava under their skin, boiling them within,
Pierced with my vendetta sword.
I will rise, Lazarus style,
From the other side of shit.
From the rot of my memories,
Revived and dangerously fit.
