Dead Women in My Marrow

(Intro) (A slow, weeping slide-guitar chord that bleeds straight into a down-tuned, industrial synthesizer pulse—thumping like a failing pacemaker in a ditch.) (Verse 1) They talk about ghosts like they’re strangers passing by Just shadows in the parlor or a whisper in the sky They don't know the acreage of what I drag around Six feet of bitter memory buried underground! You think you’ve got a burden? You think you’ve got a load? Try walking down this blood-soaked, winter-frozen road! I got names carved deep where the marrow meets the bone— A gallery of corpses carved into my throne! They don't whisper in the dark, they don't rattle any chains, They’re just a toxic heavy metal flooding through my veins! (Pre-Chorus) Dig 'em up! Burn 'em down! Salt the empty earth! Calculate the misery and measure out the worth! No redemption waiting, no angelic grace— Just dead women staring right into my face! (Chorus) I got dead women in my marrow, I got ghosts in my teeth! A pretty little lie wrapped in rotting belief! You can clean up the parlor, you can scrub down the floor, But the dead don't ever leave once you open up the door! Stomp 'em out! Let 'em bleed! We’re choking on the sickness of an animal creed! Yeah, the skeleton dance and the graveyard sing— Welcome to the kingdom where the hollow men are king! (Verse 2) It’s a peculiar thing how the past don't decompose It just hardens like iron as the river current flows Old Twain said the dead don't die, they just change their address— Well, mine moved straight into my chest cavity, I guess! Every promise that I shattered, every face I left behind, Is a rusted-out spike driving straight into my mind! You want a confession? You want a touching prayer? There ain't nothing in the casket 'cause I keep 'em right in here! Pumping through the ventricles, boiling in the blood— Turning all my history to cemetery mud! (Bridge) (Tempo cuts in half—massive, sludgy, suffocating doom-metal breakdown with crushing double-bass hits) In the marrow! In the bone! Sitting on a suicide throne! Can you feel the temperature dropping in the chest? That’s where the unwanted memories rest! Rip 'em out! Cut 'em loose! Tighten up the industrial noose! No forgiveness! No release! Till the beating of this corrupted heart finally, finally... ceases! (Guitar Solo / Heavy Breakdown) (A screaming, feedback-drenched guitar solo that shreds across a brutal, militant industrial groove—heavy enough to crack a tombstone right down the middle.) (Chorus) I got dead women in my marrow, I got ghosts in my teeth! A pretty little lie wrapped in rotting belief! You can clean up the parlor, you can scrub down the floor, But the dead don't ever leave once you open up the door! Stomp 'em out! Let 'em bleed! We’re choking on the sickness of an animal creed! Yeah, the skeleton dance and the graveyard sing— Welcome to the kingdom where the hollow men are king! (Outro) Deep in the marrow... Cold in the core. Ain't nobody knocking on the front door no more. Mark Twain left the light on, but the bulb burned out. And the dead are the only ones left... To scream and shout. (The final heavy distortion chord dissolves into a flatline electronic tone and the sound of wind howling over an open grave)