Craft of Discontent by Complete Failure Lyrics

Like an assassin's headwound in the shadows of disbelief
What more its worth and back I'll come to you
Black jester, please entertain me with such
There's too much of the not enoughs to talk myself out of this madness and ridiculous god talk
Hell hath no fury equal to this dischord, the craft of discontent
Jesus is a fucking reflex through old pornographic materials of unusually difficult livings
A poltergeist of paranoias, psychedelic hate crimes and a massive headache in my brain
Sanity, tame me no more