The Grip Of Disease

The Grip Of Disease
Sometimes I feel just like jesus christ
Nailed to the cross, betrayed and crucified
A crown of thorns cutting into my skin
A palace and a throne and a kingdom of my own
Knights in armour and courtesans, maids in waiting with blood on their hands
The kings white throne(? ) cant get blood from a stone

Im falling, into the arms of nemesis
Im falling, into the grip of disease
Cold comfort is success and I can feel my blood freeze
Reason with the dust and blown away by the breeze
How cruel the stars, that shine so hard
Im falling, into the arms of nemesis
Im falling, into the grip of
Disease
Attend his masquerader(? ) and all I ever need is the truth
But the truth of it all is that theres no truth at all
Like the truth of the cry from the new born child
So why? just tell me why, does jesus cry?
Im falling, into the arms of nemesis
Im falling, into the grip of disease
Im falling, into the arms of nemesis
Im falling, into the grip of disease
Disease, disease, disease