You'll eat your words, this day you'll suffer,
the blood stains on my hands my knife
runs through your flesh again.
Your life was lost,
in the disease,
the trust of horror lust,
in the disease.
I am pestilence, I am your fate,
I am the scythe under your skin,
why can't you scream for me again.
I am your god.
I am your fate,
I am famine
a disease that your mind creates.
I am your god.
I am wrath.
I am self-destruction,
that whispers like broken glass.
I am the curse under your skin,
why don't you scream for me again.