Castrate The Wreckage — Lock Up

I found freedom losing all hope was freedom self improve or self destruct

Right in your face but not visible The tip of your tongue but you can't taste Grotesque distortions - dark cyclones Virtual abattoir sadists womb

A host to parasites every day and night The need for something more out of life

Lost in oblivion dark and silent A fear you cannot smell or taste The endless trance, the muffled cries I await my second birth

The secret webs of emotion Spin the threads of self-rejection The secret webs of emotion Safety net for all our pain

Castrate the mental wreckage Waste is a thief No antidote for anger Sow the seeds you reap.