Way Too Wicked

I killed my muse yesterday, or was it yesteryear? And I built you the great machine to amplify my fear. Would it matter to you if I say nothing as I walk away? Did you know you're a soul predator? So fucked by the great machine. The perfect instigator. Redeem, redeem, redeem!!! I can see you down below. I can see what you really are. I can see the one who stole my soul. You're nothing, just another scar. False though I may be. I tried so hard, so long. Now it's time for me. How could I be? In this ugly light of truth. My slumber finally came undone. The devil is inside of you. None of this was ever true. (What if) I could open up to you. Like a big black stinking hole. With sexteen thousand screaming demons Tearing at your soul. (But you wouldn't care) I want to see you knee deep in the shit you pulled me through. I want to make believe I'm dead so you can feel it too. My muse is a dead soul. My muse is so cold. My muse has a heart of stone. My muse is dead and gone. My muse has the voice of God. My muse is a beautiful fraud. False though I may be, I tried so hard and now it's time for me. Help me up so you can bring me down, how could I be so wrong? Help me up so you can bring me down to hell where I belong. Your absence makes me way too wicked... You presence makes me you way too wicked... We're just way too damaged inside.