Fit For An Autopsy

The Locust

Fit For An Autopsy

The Process of Human Extermination


Swarming in the streets
Pulsing in the blood of late night locusts
The sound of broken teeth and fingernails scraping on brick walls
Piercing bones with worthless cures
In between the tremors
To subdue the necessity of living
Only to return when the lights go out again

Peel the skin back from my face
Revel in the disease
Drink from the rivers of rust
Take shelter inside this house of overwhelming distress and disregard
Hollow your soul with needles
Pray for your own end

While you wait for the pain to go away
Every one else is watching you fade away
Losing faith in hope and sleeping in the waste
Product of a decaying race

Heir to the throne of sympathetic apathy
Purveyor of post traumatic medicinal practices
If there ever was an end in sight
You would only find it in an over dosage when you weren't even searching for it

The roaches come when the lights go out
The locusts feed when our time runs out
The roaches come when the lights go out
The locusts feed when our time runs out
The roaches come when the lights go out
The locusts feed when our time runs out
The roaches come when the lights go out
The locusts feed when our time runs out

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