I haven't posted anything in a while. Let's fix that ^w^

It's not done yet. Still needs more work in the mix, vocals, etc, and there's still some unfinished parts. But I'm liking the composition :3

Title: Gentle Heretic

Lyrics:

We're painted on a page, blank of thought, we just give one-dimensional growls.
I just can't see why they want us so wrong.
They justify the time they believed in the lore.
They treat it like it's God.
Well, I just can't see why they want us torn up.

They paint us on the page with their iron fists
And overglorified knives
I just can't see how they think there's still a moral.
Maybe this genre's made of nothing but clowns that mock each other's pain,
I'd be fine if it was all just an ego fest.

They say it's in my head. But, you see, the point's misled.
They're blind to their own dread.
And I can tell. (Tell)
You're also in my sleep. (If you're sick or well)
I can feel your heart's deaf beat (Your brainroot's prison cell)
Through bone and fur and sheet (That pain from when you fell)
Through my own dreamstate's shell.

We can do without this shallow awful decor.
In my perspective we're here and gone as soon as fireworks.
We are always filtered through this power-hungry metaphor
Oh why does it never tell me if he is fine or worse?

What if it goes wrong?