Humanist

You told me to lower the highs
It hurts my eyes
Poisonous fumes
Stink in your grave
My night is saved

Inhale the stench
Stench of the dead
Remember the stench
Stench of the dead

Beer in the room
Piss on the floor
We crave some more

I know we suck
Still hate your guts
Still hate your gods

Our cries ruining your sense
Your sense of our shred
Remember the stench
The stench of the dead