Delusion from Stitches by To Hell With Tradition

Domineering forces interfering with my blood flow

Just lurking creatures or the wisest teachers how would I know

All bits and pieces of false diseases they have them engraved

They came to plunder to put me under and keep me enslaved



All I know for sure is that we never know what will be

Sick of measures to keep simple pleasures that won’t thrill me

All this lighting to appear exciting and put on a glow

So when you’re called out you could stand proud with nothing to show



This blatant infusion’s pumping through my veins

Please show me how to bore a drain



Deep inside of me I keep the guide to be a primate

Still the ghost is there but almost all of me did mutate

You’ve been drowning. I’ve been drowning. Who has got it worse?

This competition is the oldest tradition we have on this hearse



This blatant infusion’s pumping through my veins

Please show me how to bore a drain

This ancient delusion is thumping in my brain

And you ask me to ignore the pain



Who, at the darkest part of night

Would choose to only navigate by sight?

The batteries we stored

Are all dead



It seems we have never learned to tell

A beacon from a will-o’-wisp so well

With all senses overboard

No land ahead

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