Empathy
Michael Gira
You were wrong to resist me
I was wrong to forgive
Now I loathe my own weakness
But you praise me for this
There's a place in your future
Where the wound will be healed
And the children you injured
Will rise up, purified, then kill your name
You're afraid of the mirror
So you crawl on the floor
Where you count your perversions
Then you rise up
Filthy, with remorse