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This House Is Not a Home Songtext
von Vesuvius

This House Is Not a Home Songtext

Ive reached the Crux
With bent and pissonant faith
The cripping violence in my calm
Allocates
No Escape
Discourse, Disharmony
Subdued in a blink and dreamless sleep
Grandeur AND Larceny
The Volatile becomes my verity
Desaturate these dismal eyes
Clot the flux to my cortex
Conceal the maelstorm inside
I still discearn the scars of your abandonment
Mother where has the sun gone
Cause this old soul has felt far too cold
For too long
And ill wait through the darkest winter
My brittle bones buried in the creases of your bed
And ill wait six feet under
For you to come home


To speak my name AGAIN
Ive come to find my depth
My place of solace
My place of rest
A skeleton drowning in the tips of your shadow
My lapen conscience eviscerated and hollowed
Disperse these umbral skies
Betrieve my inherited demons
So i can sleep at night
And ill wait
Through the darkest winter
My brittle bones buried in the creases of your bed and Ill wait six feet under
For you to come home
To speak my name AGAIN
I found God in my sleep last night
In a place so vast, a space so dark
A void I′d crawl into
On the premise that i would NEVER awake
And we spoke.
Oh, we spoke endlessly.
Blissfully of nothing.
His words were DEAFENING.
His words we silent defiant of my notoriety.
Violent as my nature, and quiet as my thought.
His quivers ripple through the seams of my anatomy.
His words shattered my ribecage, distructive as my subconscious.
And i looked into his eyes an ounce short of conviction and said that DON'T WANT TO DIE.
With affirmation he stated that i find death in the darkest corners of the greatest perhaps.
And to find myself, i must have faith in that.
Return me to the empty house
In which i grew
Where i would converse with ghosts
A crawl space with a roof
And I know that I don′t know who
The voice that calls from the other end pertains to
But i remember in my solitude
You were there too
FATHER
Where has the light fled?
A broken boy beaten and crucified at the hands of your surrogate
With the remains os this vessel
I will submerge my contempt
This repression is a loaded GUN
Ive cut the Flux to the vitals
I am my father's son

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