Postmortem

[Produced by Rick Rubin] Funeral held for the depression of man Holds the key to his own death Entering a tomb of a corpse yet conceived Tighten the tourniquet around your neck Sifting away the debris of hated life Cold touch of death begins to chill your spine Seekin' life beyond your perishment Repeating words echoing through your mind Chanting lines of blind witchery To save yourself from extinction Wanting to die is your reason to live New life born from the oppressed Taste your blood as it trickles through the air Another casualty beyond the shadows you fall Losing ground, the fate you feel it draws near Fatality, reality, await the final call