The dead, the dead, the dead are coming back to life. Does it hurt you to know that it doesn’t hurt me at all? Oh how they love to see the mighty fall. Does it make me a bad person that I can’t wait for you to see what’s coming? Before you know it, they’ll send a flood of knives. Eager to hit your spine. This isn’t violence no. Fantasy justice yeah. The world’s an empty stage and we’re just watching it. Spite becomes routine. Harrowing questions have easier answers. There will be hell to pay. So crack the chest. Open and operate. Tie up the lungs with the debt because there’s nothing to save. Send the feet to the fields and the fire. Bill the hands, because there’s hell to pay.