Psychaesthetic – A Polemic lyrics

Is that just a hint of pretension in your voice?
Is that your guilt crawling back up from your past?
Is that just a bit of intention in your voice?
Is that your face, or just another mask?
I'm the fang of pain biting just beneath your vein
I'm the heel of the boot stomping out your mortal flame
I'm the shiny silver face of the red hammer's head
I'm the wretched, boorish swine who will leave you for dead

There's a spirit sucking leech holding fast to your soul
Rid yourself of anguish before I take control
You're flawed and you're falling face-first to the floor
Don't think you can defeat me in this existential war

Make a fist
Make a stand
Flick a wrist
Break a hand
Hit the floor as you crumble like a statue made of sand
Gasp and choke on the smoke from the flames that you've fanned

Is that just a hint of pretension in your voice?
Is that your guilt crawling back up from your past?
Is that just a bit of intention in your voice?
Is that your face, or just another mask?
I'm the ominous clouds staring down from above
I'm the lack of lament from your every past love
I'm the paradox piper long before the gates
I'm disgust
I'm despair
I am desecrate