The bloated belch of a summer
Memories of a past
From the bottom of a river
Unearth your shrine
I've been dead
Dead forever
In the middle of a riddle
Drawing lines in the sand
A crooked trail of slither
Run down your spine
I've been dead
Dead forever
A fork-tongued mirage
A drowning voice
Asleep like a plague
Halo of worms
You've fallen from grace
Right down to your grave
Your god's on the take
He price for a stake in
Crimson gold
By your throne
Crimson gold
I'm your own