Shamed by the weak and cast down in disgust
shell of a broken man without [bad word] 
Preaching upon open ears of the deaf
Depraved words uttered beneath your cold breathe

Killing what's left of the embers of youth
Scraping and clawing for a whisper of [bad word] 
Sewing our mouths shut as nothing escapes
Love and grace is a display of a man you once were

But unlike the hand of Midas
What you touch will turn to [bad word] 
Blood will flow between us
And the ground will shake until you repent your sins

The touch of cold skin and the embrace of life
In darkness dwells secrets in a holy disguise
Nothing will soothe you, old hands will turn numb
Silence will not speak

But unlike the hand of Midas
What you touch will turn to [bad word] 
Burn this [bad word] saviour
Until you see the damage you've cause