His landscape   has been scorned with death.   Once a city, now laid to ash.   A decaying father   has left his bastard son   with addictions by his side.   Chased away,   consumed from his fixations,   this man's life went down in flames.   Chased away what he's created.      His hunger grows.   There is   no end   to this   life of fixations.      Dear father,   I'll be waiting   I saved you a seat in hell.      There is no   end to   this life   of fixations.      Dear father,   I'll be waiting   I saved you a seat in hell.      He will remain   a walking corpse   his legs will move forward.   For his addictions   itch at his throat   only to crave   more of   the blood   he seeks.      For this man only thirsts for blood   the blood of his child.   For this man only thirsts for blood   the blood of his child.   For this man only thirsts for blood   the blood of his child.   For this man only thirsts for the blood   the blood of his child.      He stands   knee deep   in the blood of his bastard son.      Only his addictions   stand by his side.   Only his addictions   stand by his side.      When buried, his tomb will breathe,   his hands will rise from his shallow grave   begging only for sleep.      Dear father,   I'll be waiting   I saved you a seat in hell.      Dear father,   I'll be waiting   I saved you a seat in hell.   HE STANDS KNEE DEEP   in the blood of his bastard son.      HE STANDS KNEE DEEP   in the blood of his bastard son.