The Black Swarm

Excessive cleansing

Washing away the blood

From your shaking hands

Coughing up filth

It's like nothing is clean when

Your mind still is dirty

The swarm is near

Panic's rising by a buzzing sound

Pushes you into states of regression

A black swarm piercing through your skin

Flying high with flies

Sick, turning sicker

It creeps on you

But that's nothing new

Finally realizing

What we've always known

That you're the bug

The swarm is here

Panic's rising by a buzzing sound

Pushes you into states of regression

A black swarm piercing through your skin

Flying high with flies

Flying high with flies

Sick, turning sicker

Turning sick, fucking sick