Lamb of GodThe Number Six

Sloth is the enemy of greatness
Reflection a scalpel to my mind.
We strive as you leisurely criticize
A free ride until you find that you've dug your own grave
Lie by lie.
Just a running mouth
Poison words you throw about
Drag you to your end
The number six
Leviathan.
You've dug your own grave with your spite
You've dug your own grave lie by lie
A cancer that needs to be cut out
Sweet slander the razor to your throat
Trim the fat
A loose end to be tied up and cast aside
Left to find that you've dug your own grave with your spite.
Just a running mouth
Poison words you throw about
Drag you to your end
The number six
Leviathan.
Poison words you throw about
Drag you to your end
The number six
Leviathan.
A relentless imposition by a self-fulfilling travesty
From one who is just rotting there
In slut's wool and zero history.
Aesthetic condemning
Erratic condescending.
An empty barrel always makes the most noise
And I begin to feel my hands around your throat.
(Your throat)
(Erratic condescending)
You've dug your own grave with your spite
You've dug your own grave lie by lie.
Just a running mouth
Poison words you throw about
Drag you to your end
The number six
Leviathan.
Poison words you throw about
Drag you to your end
The number six
Leviathan.
You've dug your own grave
You've dug your own grave
The number six
Leviathan.
You've dug your own grave
A running mouth
You've dug your own grave
A poison word
You've dug your own grave
Will be your end
The number six
Leviathan.