"Fame Of The Grotesque" lyrics
This endless waiting consumes me
I drown in the feeling of stagnation
Nothing makes sense anymore, everything remains blurry
Absolute emptiness for a degenerate species
Create an army of personalities
To hide the fact that you have none
As if trapped in quicksand with no way to escape
Fame of the grotesque
Slowly let the shame and pain become your pride
Fame of the grotesque
Humans so desperate that they fuse with disease not to feel alone
What's left when the disease
Holds more meaning than your own existence?
The end of an era
As if trapped in quicksand with no way to escape
Fame of the grotesque
Slowly let the shame and pain become your pride
Fame of the grotesque
Admire me, I'm sick
Fuck me, I'm sick
Invite me as the center of your world
Let me in
And make me famous, I'm crazy
With no talent to put forward but this one
Lost on the only path you could find
Reaching fame, the delicious bait
They all crave for
A consumable thing, like all the rest
As if trapped in quicksand with no way to escape
Fame of the grotesque
Slowly let the shame and pain become your pride
Blessed be the age of the fame of the grotesque
I drown in the feeling of stagnation
Nothing makes sense anymore, everything remains blurry
Absolute emptiness for a degenerate species
Create an army of personalities
To hide the fact that you have none
As if trapped in quicksand with no way to escape
Fame of the grotesque
Slowly let the shame and pain become your pride
Fame of the grotesque
Humans so desperate that they fuse with disease not to feel alone
What's left when the disease
Holds more meaning than your own existence?
The end of an era
As if trapped in quicksand with no way to escape
Fame of the grotesque
Slowly let the shame and pain become your pride
Fame of the grotesque
Admire me, I'm sick
Fuck me, I'm sick
Invite me as the center of your world
Let me in
And make me famous, I'm crazy
With no talent to put forward but this one
Lost on the only path you could find
Reaching fame, the delicious bait
They all crave for
A consumable thing, like all the rest
As if trapped in quicksand with no way to escape
Fame of the grotesque
Slowly let the shame and pain become your pride
Blessed be the age of the fame of the grotesque
