Marraskuun Kulkija

Creutzfeld-Jakob progresses in ints progenesis
An uncommon, encephelopathic neuro-degenerate
Initiates the imminent demise of the recipient
Treatments and procedures with contaminated instruments
Widely believed to be received in the form of incisions with
An often incorrectly autoclaved piece of equipment
With a prion dance on the blade of it, as the technician slits
A set of staves upon the soon-to-be-considered invalid
Tubes, wires and machines beeping with a dissonance
Only ever reminiscent of death, in my experience
Cold sweats, muscle fatigue and a loss of interest in
Retaining basic motor function, will to live diminishes
Dizziness and vision skips  Rapidly deteriorated
By the development of the dementia the condition gives
Can't even muster up the minimum cognition to pick up a pen
And write your own name by the very end of it

And just so you know, you can't take anything that matters to you
Down here, with you when you go
Do you even know, up or down after you go in the ground to decompose
And help a patch of weeds to grow
They hate it when you go  They miss you 'til they don't
The day they put you inside a hole in the ground, its all for show
The prognosis on your brain, written in the folds
Blossomed into the impermanence every person will know
As the cruel hand of fate dishes out another sick joke
Who can relate? This is not how you planned it to go
So sad to say, as the pains snatched away
By the hand of the prosecutors everlasting bane

(The prosecutors everlasting bane)
4x

Aphasia, forgetfulness, ataxia, the symptom list
Is growing more severe with every second you get riddled with
This incurable ailment, sporadic, in how it implements
As you unexpectedly slip away from all distinctiveness
Body tremors, night terrors, watching your family mourn you
While you're still semi-cognisant, slipping into insignificance
Unable to communicate your final thoughts as you give up
And give in to your final abilities, all diminishing
Acceptance is beginning with relinquishing resistance
To the malevolent folds of the disease you've been infected with
No treatment has ever been discovered as effective, in reversal
They can only slow the symptoms down, a little bit
As much as you would like to get what you think you deserve
Which is instantaneous death, it gives itself to you in increments
In advancing conditions, an indestructible army advances
In its incessant mockeries of modern medicine

And just so you know, you can't take anything that matters to you
Down here, with you when you go
Do you even know, up or down after you go in the ground to decompose
And help a patch of weeds to grow
They hate it when you go  They miss you 'til they don't
The day they put you inside a hole in the ground, its all for show
The prognosis on your brain, written in the folds
Blossomed into the impermanence every person will know
As the cruel hand of fate dishes out another sick joke
Who can relate? This is not how you planned it to go
So sad to say, as the pains snatched away
By the hand of the prosecutors everlasting bane

(The prosecutors everlasting bane)
4x