LyricsWell Fed Lies
What size this wound, this mortal wound, this wound that will not die?
Compared too soon to its own doom, to feelings it defies
And as this day turns into night the cycle starts again
What size this wound, this lonely wound, this wound that's now my friend?
Promises are well-fed lies feeding on the lamb
Questioning identity screaming here I am
Praying their betrayal will restore those once held dear
Promises just well fed lies scared beyond their years
What night is this, this moonless night, this night of howling winds?
Hiding as it does so well from truths that always sin
Crawling deep inside itself the victor on its throne
What night, this night, this 7th night tearing skin from bone
Summoned, summoned in the night
Summoned to my fright
Bleeding, bleeding wistfully
Bleeding without sight