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Description
I live in the top of my Paradigm Spire,
The place where all sorrow and shame will conspire,
Where all of my hate burns in a hell born fire,
And the best way to live- is to live like a liar,
My lust for new blood will never tire,
And my patience for failure is as thin as a wire,
For rage- this place is a home and a shire,
And with every ounce of my anger- the flames grow higher,
All burning atop my Paradigm Spire,

I can't escape from the grip of my mind,
And I'm using my rage to get love I can't find,
Away at my heart I slowly chip and I grind,
Searching for something that could ever be kind,
My soul is twisting to find the light that once shined,
But the ties of my past grip tightly and bind,
Failure follows closely after all I've tried,
And the joy I once had falls further behind,
All in the Paradigm Spire in my mind,

I walk through the distorted and dark bloodshot halls,
Looking at the agony painted on the walls,
A place where a sweet voice never calls,
Where the voices of hell play with your souls like dolls,
A place where all joy soon slips and falls,
And you don't feel an ounce of love touch you at all,
The fear and hate hidden- your smiles a shawl,
In a cursed maze with a blood pumping ball,
All at the top of the Spire and end of the halls,

I live in the top of my Paradigm Spire,
The place where all sorrow and shame did conspire,
And in sorrow my corpse will burn in it's fire,
As I reap what I've sewn by living as a liar,
I bleed my own blood because I didn't tire,
And my patience has snapped like a fragile wire,
I die in the home- I die in this shire,
And the flames are so tall they can't get any higher,
Through my grip and my halls and my Paradigm Spire

Description
I live in the top of my Paradigm Spire,
The place where all sorrow and shame will conspire,
Where all of my hate burns in a hell born fire,
And the best way to live- is to live like a liar,
My lust for new blood will never tire,
And my patience for failure is as thin as a wire,
For rage- this place is a home and a shire,
And with every ounce of my anger- the flames grow higher,
All burning atop my Paradigm Spire,

I can't escape from the grip of my mind,
And I'm using my rage to get love I can't find,
Away at my heart I slowly chip and I grind,
Searching for something that could ever be kind,
My soul is twisting to find the light that once shined,
But the ties of my past grip tightly and bind,
Failure follows closely after all I've tried,
And the joy I once had falls further behind,
All in the Paradigm Spire in my mind,

I walk through the distorted and dark bloodshot halls,
Looking at the agony painted on the walls,
A place where a sweet voice never calls,
Where the voices of hell play with your souls like dolls,
A place where all joy soon slips and falls,
And you don't feel an ounce of love touch you at all,
The fear and hate hidden- your smiles a shawl,
In a cursed maze with a blood pumping ball,
All at the top of the Spire and end of the halls,

I live in the top of my Paradigm Spire,
The place where all sorrow and shame did conspire,
And in sorrow my corpse will burn in it's fire,
As I reap what I've sewn by living as a liar,
I bleed my own blood because I didn't tire,
And my patience has snapped like a fragile wire,
I die in the home- I die in this shire,
And the flames are so tall they can't get any higher,
Through my grip and my halls and my Paradigm Spire