Rot on the edge of the 11th hour
Stand by your pit of flames and spit,
You're running closer to your own destruction.
Stoned from the smoke of your own burning mind,
You're blinded to your own end drawing nigh.
Building your idols out of ice and shocked when they melt into mud.
Spin the bottle, kiss the bottle,
Paralyze yourself with the opium of intoxication.
Spin the bottle, kiss the pipe,
Jump inside the fire and burn with me.
Kiss your opium when you begin to form thoughts,
Your sweet, blinding demoness will take you through eternity
Just close your eyes and jump under her wings.
Deaf and dumb by your own passion,
You do nothing but keep rolling the dice.
Roll the dice and gamble your soul for love,
Riches, fame, women.
Hit snakeyes and watch it all fall down.
It's judgment day and you're gripping on
To the remnants of a life of vanity.
It's judgment day and you still can't see
Your obliteration just moments away.
Your meaning of life lies in a Colt .45,
An anesthesia masquerading as a bullet headed for your brain.
Pull the trigger and follow me,
Jump with us into the fires of eternity.
Fear not the flames of torment,
Fear not the justice of your maker.
Your fears will set you free.
Barrel meet temple
Finger meet trigger
Bullet meet bone
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