Sin

You don't make up for your sins in church You do it on the streets You do it in your soul You do it in your heart You do it in your home Angry ace alienated...you do it all alone My sins are subliminal introspective nightmares Where beautiful faces turn into menacing stares Where beauty turns to ugliness on the drop of a dime Falling further in the flames while scratching for the sky My sins are silent invisible needles and threads Slowly sowing and reaping my soul into death It gets deeper and darker as I take another step Will this be the final scene? Will this be my final breath? My sins are strange insidious notions Higher than Heaven and deeper than an ocean Malfunctioning submarine Stuck in reverse Begging for a blessing as I still crave the curse Now I can see that long black hearse out there on Hells horizon My sins they start to speak and just like wicked weeds... They are rising Now I run through fields of fire and I fall into tangled traps Stretched into nothingness For the wages of sin is death