I'm going insane in my cell they say I've been already been Bars at the window chains on my wrists my lost life in sin Don't know how many times I hammered my fists against the wall But the bleeding knuckles don't bother me I feel no pain at all
Cowering all night in the corner of my cell Whetting my fingernails on the cold and blackened stone Visions of a war start spinning through my head Scratching out my eyes my lost life in red
The creeping lord painting my world in pale Tortured at war the battlefield the war machine
Out of control running wild I cannot think Burying all deceptions even the water that I drink Everything I lost now seems to come back to me The memories hunting me I wished I could erase
The creeping lord painting my world in pale Tortured at war the battlefield the war machine
Been seven days awake now the sun's crawling over the hill And the effect of what I took seems to fade Taking a breath of morning air Lying in the tall weeds but is it real Memories of something cold, dark and silent, vague and very old Feel the madness
They're coming back for me
(The creeping lord painting my world) The creeping lord painting my world in pale Tortured at war the battlefield the war machine
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Copy to Clipboard: I'm going insane in my cell they say I've been already been Bars at the window chains on my wrists my lost life in sin Don't know how many times I hammered my fists against the wall But the bleeding knuckles don't bother me I feel no pain at all
Cowering all night in the corner of my cell Whetting my fingernails on the cold and blackened stone Visions of a war start spinning through my head Scratching out my eyes my lost life in red
The creeping lord painting my world in pale Tortured at war the battlefield the war machine
Out of control running wild I cannot think Burying all deceptions even the water that I drink Everything I lost now seems to come back to me The memories hunting me I wished I could erase
The creeping lord painting my world in pale Tortured at war the battlefield the war machine
Been seven days awake now the sun's crawling over the hill And the effect of what I took seems to fade Taking a breath of morning air Lying in the tall weeds but is it real Memories of something cold, dark and silent, vague and very old Feel the madness
They're coming back for me
(The creeping lord painting my world) The creeping lord painting my world in pale Tortured at war the battlefield the war machine
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