Within is enclosed the biography of madness
Which permeates the handle and moistens the blade
As the sharpened-edge titanium becomes so red again
I neglect to reflect on the past that I've made
Within is enclosed the heat death of the universe
Which brings all those who sin like me down to their knees
As the cells in my body exponentially decline
I bequeath to the sheath a promise drowned in the seas
I know that I have made too many wrongdoings to count
And I wholly don't expect any forgiveness from your part
But I want you do undo every act that I have made
I regret my mistakes, let darkness tear me apart

Does it even matter, what do I say?
The world only remembers the results, anyway
When the sun's sinful rays pierce right through the sky
The world will ask in unison: please tell me why

Within is enclosed the biography of madness
Which permeates the handle and moistens the blade
As the sharpened-edge titanium becomes so red again
I neglect to reflect on the past that I've made
Within is enclosed the heat death of the universe
Which brings all those who sin like me down to pay their toll
As the cells in my body exponentially decline
I just want to return to the peace that I stole and I want to make the world whole
Does it even matter, what do I do?
The world will not remember, neither will you
When the moon fades away and darkens the night
The world will ask in unison, why must we fight?

Within is enclosed the epitaph of sadness
Which poisons all the roses and sharpens their thorns
As the self-inflicted injuries become so red again
I neglect to reflect on the past so forlorn
Within is enclosed the heat death of the universe
Which brings all those who sin like me simply to die
As the cells in my body exponentially decline
I just want to answer this pressing question of mine and I want to ask the world:

Why do we live to succumb to destruction?
Why do we die to continue so broken?
Why do we celebrate pending demise, and
Why do we contemplate and fetishize?

Why do we think with entropy abound?
Why do we think that we are ever found?
Why do we smile despite the grim fate, and
Why do we love even though it's too late?