Searching for something on the outside
To scatter seeds that I will never sow
Waning, wasting on the inside
I found nothing at the end of the road

A blackened path
The flash of teeth
To light up the dark
For the long deceased

And now the grass is withering under my feet
I could say I'm sorry but I wouldn’t mean it
I could say I'm sorry but I wouldn't mean it
I wouldn’t mean it

Searching for something on the outside
To scatter seeds that I will never sow
Waning, wasting on the inside
I found nothing at the end of the road

Wither(and waste away)
Running (from slow decay)
The unholy (speaks my name)
A blackened path do all obey

Wither (and waste away)
Running (from slow decay)
The unholy (speaks my name)
A blackened path do all obey

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