The weight of death has [bad word] you lame
the tears flow free, but who's to blame
conjure guilt, through selfish thought
with grief and fear, the mind is wrought
heartache and pain won't bring them back
nor ceremonies dressed in black
is it yours or the deceased
the loss of whom is being grieved?
the death is done,
the corpse is rotting out
I see you cry, don't you hang your head and pout
kid yourself about a heaven or of [bad word] 
in [bad word] you're attached to a lifeless shell
Putrefied features
Decaying intestines
those flowers can not mask
the stench of death from a carcass

We are gathered here in mourning of our selfish memories (god won't forgive)
as the reaper laughs, we scribe the epitaph for our own sake (your vanity)

The dead transcends its mortal shell
Those who are left they blame themselves
To spare them of their misery
One will rise with anger's creed
It's breaking bones and slashing necks
Decapitates just for effect
The bodies pile in their pews
You and your kind are now subdued
I have risen
For only one reason
To cleanse this
Fouling chapel
empty cries
Echo in dissonance
primal delight
Your laments
Serve as my catalyst
To reunite you with your dead
Now that we are
Covered in gasoline
Our flesh [bad word] the light
We burn bright on this night

We were gathered here in mourning of our selfish memories (god won't forgive)
as the reaper laughed, we scribed the epitaph for our own sake (your vanity)

Such hollow, meaningless waiting
We always look to the ending
No one can see
We've lost our Vitality