Depth Strida, Istasha - The Blood Ministration Does Not Praise The Sun lyrics

Tired tracks spiral steps
Spinning mind blank in the bank I forget

Ephasize inner Strain
In the back of the
Brain where they line it with eyes

Get a fucking sense don't need a banquet
Anguish apparently
They end up in basket
Of ashes

Light another post appear redacted
In caskets ain't no point pressed
Take notes out of guess

Don't trail need sweep
Cover in it to deep
Turn black white dress
All Red blood weep

Seamless as curtain on my vision
Out of blindfolds
Stem from a certain dispositions
Not account for

Fighting my anxiety
Ghosts are passing right through me
Splitting off reality
When was the last time i
Caught some good sleep
I just wanna pull the trigger my
Brain feel like a disease
Always having nightmares cause istasha guides
Me through my dreams wide horns
Cleric beast
Time has come to serve the feast
Blood inherit from diseased