Phantasmal Paranoia - Thyrane

When the sun won’t shine on you

They are inside you, intoxicating

Bringing the deal from the devil

Your soul will be sold tonight

Drifting at the interstellar oceans

Laconic voice speaking about itself

As I see myself chasing me into the vortex

Discipline’s executed below the surface

When synthetic gallows takes control

Murder of my mind is one of a kind

Believe in the words of darkness

Life is soon to be out of vogue here

There is no grave beneath my flowers

No worms on my bones

No proof of existence

No formula to exit

When the worms encircle your shrine

They are still inside me, intoxicated