Grant Me Ataraxia
Written By: Raul A. Rodriguez
Performed By: Harry's Bronze Coffin



the instruments rally at the apocalyptic gala
so glad we didn't have to pay the band
we've got all the music you need
just let the people scream, oh, the people will scream...

I hear screaming in harmonies now
an aria in the inspiration of the end of the world comes to my head
I better write this down, I better write this down

father forgive me, grant me mercy, grant me ataraxia in the afterlife
I've seen enough hell, it's never been a luxury for me to die
but I heard the reaper is growing a capital larger than the government
I'm surprised they haven't made an arrest
it must be a government design to make coffins of currency
the more they kill, the more they make
the more they lie, the more they take advantage of our ignorance
but we never even had a chance
how can you brand us with such ignorance when we never had a chance?

I hear the man next to me murmuring with death
imploring him to take him next
flaunting with his new gold scythe
he points to the sign that says take a number
"I don't have time for this, wait in line like all the rest"
no one wants to stick around for the apocalypse
but the horseman have started their very own band

"master gave us sanction, your father permit"
the skull mare cavalry will jaunt across the plains
setting them ablaze, singing "no one will remain!"
but I heard the reaper say there's a way you can be saved
ask for forgiveness, beg for mercy, admit wrong in every way
because man has always been wrong
ever since that day when he took a bite from that shiny red apple, stupid snake
now man is just the same, look at the world today

we've created a dominion that controls the underground traffic
of the shiny red apples of today, they come in all sizes, colors and shapes
white powder, green grass, brown liquid, pills in black
make your purchase, your contributions will go to the organization of the apocalyptic gala this millenia
it's looking to be a blast

I hear screaming in harmonies now
an aria in the inspiration of the end of the world comes to my head
forget writing this down, I'm just going to shout really fucking loud

father forgive me, grant me mercy, grant me ataraxia in the afterlife!
I've seen enough hell, it's become a luxury for me to die
I heard the reaper is growing a capital larger than the government
I'm surprised they haven't made an arrest
it must be a government design to make coffins of currency through death
the more they kill, the more they make
the more they lie, the more they take advantage of our ignorance
but we never even had a chance
how can you brand us with such ignorance... did we ever have a chance?