Voidless Spiritual Disease

Something evil this way comes,

my grave wait's for me.

So i lay beneath my dreams,

looking for relief.

In all my impressions of who i was.

Regardless Smedrå is near.

I leave all my sorrow,

laying beneath my dreams.

Smedrå

Facing myself in the mirror,

a reflection i cannot stand.

Cutting my wrist with the glass that i hit.

A tornado of souls,

inside my own home.

Here's the axe that I'll grind.

A voidless spiritual disease,

show's it's theet.