The Pentacyclical все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

The minutes forming an hour are slowly ending. The time has come, and with every tick of the clock I am withering, devoured by myself.
Watch at all this like you care, express your false mercy backed up with fear and apathy, so disgusting.
The last judgement you were intimidating me with means nothing now.
Maybe someone will save me, but I do not hope for it or anything else anymore.
Like an autumn leaf I'm decaying to a condition of a lifeless shell. Been hating myself too much.

A kingdom of thoughts in my head is deforming, torn by a civil war. Neurons producing the poisons of mass hatred. Hatred for those I loved.