Way Too Wicked

I killed my muse yesterday, or was it yesteryear?

And I built you the great machine to amplify my fear.

Would it matter to you if I say nothing as I walk away?

Did you know you're a soul predator?

So fucked by the great machine.

The perfect instigator.

Redeem, redeem, redeem!!!

I can see you down below.

I can see what you really are.

I can see the one who stole my soul.

You're nothing, just another scar.

False though I may be.

I tried so hard, so long.

Now it's time for me.

How could I be?

In this ugly light of truth.

My slumber finally came undone.

The devil is inside of you.

None of this was ever true.

(What if) I could open up to you.

Like a big black stinking hole.

With sexteen thousand screaming demons

Tearing at your soul.

(But you wouldn't care)

I want to see you knee deep in the shit you pulled me through.

I want to make believe I'm dead so you can feel it too.

My muse is a dead soul.

My muse is so cold.

My muse has a heart of stone.

My muse is dead and gone.

My muse has the voice of God.

My muse is a beautiful fraud.

False though I may be, I tried so hard and now it's time for me.

Help me up so you can bring me down, how could I be so wrong?

Help me up so you can bring me down to hell where I belong.

Your absence makes me way too wicked...

You presence makes me you way too wicked...

We're just way too damaged inside.