The Love Below

21 years behind that desk, with 21 more to go

Scratch tooth and nail for a better cell, but deep down somewhere I know

That all of this is a private hell, I can feel it in my bones

And then an ex-wife, and a long flight, lets me know where I belong

The grip and thirst that drives the love below

A warm embrace under the endless night

All that we desire from the love below

The wretched filth for which we fight and die

We build upon the ruins of these long forgotten tombs

Without daylight or a respite, we carve our place in a callous world