Lyrics Immolated Correspondent - Broadmoor

What's it like inside a furnace while it's burning bright?
The things I wonder as I toss and turn at night
I am the poster child for agony, travesty
I am the model of fallacy that you know so well
There is no god hiding inside my eyes
Deceit in form of a sheep skin disguise
Where's the sheep that sleeps?
Where's the wolf that prays on the weak?
Separate me
How come it seems like everyone's got it all figured out?
I am the hand pouring oil into open flame
I am the immolated correspondent
Happiness is a phantom, gone in the mist
A door cracked open but easy to miss
It's the ghost of past, it's the ghost of my sins
An eidolon vanishes north of the wind
As I stare forward with a look of disdain carved in my face
I offered gold, I offered silver trying to barter with fate
I was there, goodbye
I was there in your nightmare
(Only)
I stare straight forward with a look of disdain carved into my face
(Into my fucking face)
I'll light myself aflame, the blame is all on me
(I'll light myself aflame the blame is all on me)
Where's the wolf that prays on me?
All that there's gonna be left is a memory
All that's left is a memory
Where's the wolf that prayed on me?
The blame is all on me
The blame is all on me