Anvil Chandelier
Disembodied
The Diablerie (1999)

The passing hours of life
numb the pain of the pounding fists of consequence swelling on my skin
the festering wounds of desire I have yet to obtain
makes it hard to see the truth yet still I strain
the faint promise of a future and thins
I never had lies fed where I was still pondering
the youth stolen from me and now i relize all i could have had
and now you tell me all i could have had
and now you give me all i could have had
but i dont want it anymore
I don't want it anymore
I don't need it anymore
No more hope just closed doors
and as we walk into oblivion
every step is a reminder of passing hours
of passing days
of passing lives
of passing away