A metronome's relentless beat, TICK TOK TICK TOK,
A rhythm of descent, a silent, sickening shock.
FOTHER MUCKER, the whisper, a curse upon the air,
For the moment you embraced, a burden you would bear.
That mythical rope, a silken, tempting lie,
A ridiculous proposition, beneath a clouded sky.
You allowed them to place it, a choice, though subtly made,
Now suffocating, the light begins to fade.
On the brink of a fate worse than death, a chilling, stark despair,
A breath withheld, a gasp that's lost in empty air.
And the blood runneth cold for the rest, a silent, tragic plea,
Fortunately or unfortunately, for those who watched you flee.
We all knew that rope was a noose, we saw the fatal knot,
We warned you, with voices strained, from a truth we'd truly got.
We told you, with passion, our words like urgent cries,
We pleaded with you, to open your closed eyes.
Yet you complied, a strange submission, deep and vast,
You refused the truth, holding to a future that wouldn't last.
They told you the feast was a famine, a cruel and twisted art,
And the famine was a feast, tearing faith apart.
Oh, your lying eyes, that saw what they desired,
Betraying vision, by false illusions fired.
Their victory your loss, a bitter, final toll,
The last nail in the coffin for all, a shattered, broken whole.
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A metronome's relentless beat, TICK TOK TICK TOK,
A rhythm of descent, a silent, sickening shock.
FOTHER MUCKER, the whisper, a curse upon the air,
For the moment you embraced, a burden you would bear.
That mythical rope, a silken, tempting lie,
A ridiculous proposition, beneath a clouded sky.
You allowed them to place it, a choice, though subtly made,
Now suffocating, the light begins to fade.
On the brink of a fate worse than death, a chilling, stark despair,
A breath withheld, a gasp that's lost in empty air.
And the blood runneth cold for the rest, a silent, tragic plea,
Fortunately or unfortunately, for those who watched you flee.
We all knew that rope was a noose, we saw the fatal knot,
We warned you, with voices strained, from a truth we'd truly got.
We told you, with passion, our words like urgent cries,
We pleaded with you, to open your closed eyes.
Yet you complied, a strange submission, deep and vast,
You refused the truth, holding to a future that wouldn't last.
They told you the feast was a famine, a cruel and twisted art,
And the famine was a feast, tearing faith apart.
Oh, your lying eyes, that saw what they desired,
Betraying vision, by false illusions fired.
Their victory your loss, a bitter, final toll,
The last nail in the coffin for all, a shattered, broken whole.