The Chain, the Death

Walking sidewalks and you'll see their shadows
As they sink into the cracks and crevices
You can't stop your eyes from travelling
You'll feed them the harvest of skin

And between every second, you'll hear and see me
As I'm in the whispers you'll tell them
I dwell in the bottom of the oceans of false testimony
You'll love me once you speak of me

And when you speak of treasure, your eyes will grow hopeful
Then crash at the sound of disagreement, "no"
So what feat you will go to hold the gold in your rough hands
Just break the windows, thieve for it, and run away

For every list of vices I speak of eloquently
You will be closer to me than you think
Heaven and hell will be called against you
And I swear hell is where your beloved intoxication begins