The Number Six - Lamb Of God

Sloth is the enemy of greatness

Reflection, a scalpel to my mind

We strive as you leisurely criticize

A free ride until you find that

You’ve dug your own grave, lie by lie

Just a running mouth

Poison words you throw about

Drag you to your end

The number six

Leviathan

You’ve dug your own grave with your spite

You’ve dug your own grave, lie by lie

A cancer that needs to be cut out

Sweet slander the razor to your throat

Trim the fat

A loose end to be tied up and cast aside

Left to find that you’ve dug your own grave (with your spite)

Just a running mouth

Poison words you throw about

Drag you to your end

The number six

Leviathan

Poison words you throw about

Drag you to your end

The number six

Leviathan

A relentless imposition by a self-fulfilling travesty

From one who is just rotting there

In slut’s wool and zero history

Aesthetic condemning

Erratic condescending

An empty barrel always makes the most noise

And I begin to feel my hands

My hans around your throat

You’ve dug your own grave with your spite

You’ve dug your own grave, lie by lie

Just a running mouth

Poison words you throw about

Drag you to your end

The number six

Leviathan

Poison words you throw about

Drag you to your end

The number six

Leviathan

You’ve dug your own grave

You’ve dug your own grave

The number six

Leviathan

You’ve dug your own grave

A running mouth (you've dug your own grave)

And poison words (you've dug your own grave)

Will be your end

The number six

Leviathan