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Waxwork
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Exhumed
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[Musick & Lyrixxx - Matt Harvey]
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In my waxen world, time stands still
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Forever frozen like flies trapped in amber
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One perfect moment preserved, just ere the kill
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Gruesome atrocities transfixed in horror's chamber
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Poetry without motion, figures stranded midstream
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Waxen players in this dark drama of the macabre
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Mouths agape with terror but breathless to scream
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No death rattle heard, nor parting sors...
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I am preserver of life through my morbid art
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For each mannequin was truly alive from the start
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So if the eyes seem to follow your gaze as you gawk
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Know that in the eyes of the dead, in their shadow you walk...
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Cadavers molded in wax as their lives buried away
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More preening puppets to perform in the scenes that I play
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Features cast in the moment of dying preserved
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How they screamed as they met with their fates well deserved...
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WAXWORK
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Recreating the horror of the moment of death
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My models serve their purpose quite well
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Embalm their bodies in wax, capture their dying breath
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Drain the fluids to stave off the smell
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Like dolls that dance to their own funeral dirge
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They play out their death scenes interminably
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As prized their exhibits in my dark reserve
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They unfold their secrets only to me
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Life eternal in wax was their death's decree
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Suffering for my art, they surrendered to me
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So when their eyes lock with your gaze
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Look unflinchingly at death or turn away fast...
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Skin blistered and softened as it was coated and sealed away
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Another preserved puppet to prance on the strings that I play
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The fear ensnared in their captive countenances I've trapped
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Mummified and memorialised in wax well-woven and wrapped...
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WAXWORK
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[Lead - Matt]
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So sit still in your place at the end of the blade
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By my design, death's hand find you just out of reach
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Another player in this deathly silent world that I have made
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Devoid of sound, fury or motion, sense, movement or speech
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Awaiting a terminus that never will come
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You're a marionette bound by my strings
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Trussed in this tomb of wax, your time here is not done
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For time does not quite end all things...
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This is my life's work, this still, silent place
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A monument to the fear frozen in a cold, waxen face
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Take care not to stare into their eyes, whatever you do
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When you look deep into death, it sees back into you too...
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Flesh bubbled and scalded, as this molten bath washed life away
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Wax covered my still-screaming prey
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Another piece for my prizing, recast in my mold
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Features harden and set as the wax grows stiff and cold...
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WAXWORK
August Burns Red - Exhumed (Official Lyr...
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