Tin Can Tomb

from Tin Can Tomb (And Other Modern Interpretations of Hell) by GRYPT

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lyrics

I work to make you feel better
Riding in a death machine
Waiting for my life to be over
Choking on the fumes of you talking

I hope to die out on the road
I hope my blood spells out ‘fuck you’
I hope your fuel dries up
And your humans rust

Free me from this cage that traps me
Ballet in tin can tomb
I hate this life you give me
I’ll strip your hand of flesh to chew

We stew in traffic jam curses
I throw the curse back to you

I hope to die out on the road
I hope my blood spells out ‘fuck you.’
I hope your fuel dries up
And your humans rust
I watch you watching over me
I wonder what it’d be like to kill you
Every time I get in my suicide car
I dream of driving into your face

I am what you refuse to give me
What I make will change you
I am what you refuse to give me
What I make will end you