Tekster: Hellacopters. By The Grace Of God. Exorcist.

in the night you feel
somewhat unreal
and it ain't fiction
it's cathing up - with you
nothing you can do - no
and the hurt begins
leeches on your skin
as you're standing by
the sun's eclipsed by a thousand flies
it's time to fall - you'll see
it ain't no misery
and it will not end
it's a fact - and it's cold
just like you've been told - so
the hurt begins
leeches on your skin
as you're standing by
the sun's eclipsed by a thousand flies
your stomach turns
your eyes they itch and burn
pray to god get them off of me
alone on bloody bending knees
despite the fact you scream and shout
no one reacts or cares about
they say it's all just in your head
it's plain to see your left for dead
in the night you feel
somewhat unreal
and it ain't fiction
it's cathing up - with you
nothing you can do - no