A necrotic spirit casts a suffering in the wind to devour any worth of soul
Strings from hands of dying trees manipulate loss
For nature itself withers into industrial rivers
Windows to scream at (weakness reflects) and tone only shatters your soul

Dull razors signify life has gone too deep
The enemy within your sleep
Keeper of sharpened blades
The mind can wander but the flesh has nowhere to hide

[Bridge]

Offer of enough rope for eternity to hang itself upon the shadow behind the light
A darkness none can control
Choking on their own life and blood