The Sycophant

Teardrops stain catatonic prayers
Pleading mercy and new found faith

You play the part of the tragic victim,And seek remorse in death's embrace

He sheds his skin now, nothing more than flesh and bone
No goodness rests here, just the scars from sticks and stones

You inhaled the pneumatic lies
Fell in line with his caustic games

Unmasked reality now laughs at you
Sin soaks the skeletal remains

He sheds his skin now, nothing more than flesh and bone
No goodness rests here, just the scars from sticks and stones

Hiding from the tempest behind fake regret
I got scared in my final breath
Thief of another's faith, that's not who I am
Take a look 'cause there's blood on my hands