Produced by Groundless https://soundcloud.com/user-152443893

Lyrics:
In the dungeon
Bludgeoning pungent scent run amok of function, run to the smell of something
Or disjunction. Trudging through pumping lungs gripping the stump of an arm lost to consumption.
Never dysfunction. Honing his senses he hobbles quick through the mud with the mind of a man hunted.
Searching the crumblings.
Sating the rumblings.
Deep in the tomb of the land where he found comfort.
Hope is a fleeting dream. But still he holds to the vessel of quickly draining strength.
But still he holds to the faith of his own fate's slacking strings.
And now he listens out keep and ear to the dampened twigs.
Don't hear the beating wings.
-
He's running faster now. Stamping feet echo out through the halls he fear the sound scaping faster he sees it now.
He quickly hits the ground. And now the hunted meets hunter and it's released the hounds he will pray for some help around he will scream for the strength he's found he will lift himself off the ground.
He's standing still but he readies up to score. Shaking straight to the core. He will win this day or, he will have a savior, or he will lose to the gore. And then he's torn to pieces and now his body's no more.

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