All about me is rancid.
I know that melancholy way of laughter.
That soft sweet kiss of night, the dreams it carries to me.
Oh, those little slices of death, carry me unto peace.
Those little slices of spice in an otherwise bland existence.
Cuddle up and sleep light, put on the night and don’t ask
what it means.

All about me is rancid.
They don’t even know my name.
All i hear is the silence of another day dying.

All about me is rancid.
This place that knows only death.
Miserable misbegotten lives; lived, but not really lived at all.
All they know is existence, undergone in pain, summarizing in
death, screaming of silence.

All about me is rancid.
Come unto me peace; night, take me on your dark journey.
Hold me in your dark embrace.
Softly away, never to awake, for all about me is rancid.

That’s all I know.