Antithesis - Converge

Idle chatter sounds much better to the absent mind

Govern me, kill thy master

You will not enslave me

The root is bitter but the fruit is sweet but not exempt from criticism

Small pox friendship, you die I take

You are the new slave

Don’t call me God because I don’t have a disease

What is cold to you is love to me

Savior seething rolling you in

Cherub in red said there’s nothing to see here

Hallowed be who art in heaven

I refuse to call that fucker by name