Hunger for More

HUNGER FOR MORE

A Sunday morning we spent in the sin of the blind
No pastures of afterbirth for us, we are marked
Destined to go where we deserve to be resigned
And pay crime for all the fairytales we never harked

And so here we lay upon a bed reeking of wrong
We won't care until it's time to understand
Until then we'll just think we can sing our song
Jesting and dancing to the underworld's band

Scourge, but we don't care about the redemption
Disease upon the neighbors, but do we care?
Right now all we want is the final temptation
And even after that, there's more we'd dare

Show us the door to hell and we'll go through
Lock us away in flames, we'll just make do

- poet Darká