Dark Hallucinations

I was born in a straitjacket
And I will die in a straitjacket
As I inherit the power of the strange
The need for obscurity consumes me

Dark hallucinations encaged
In a secure reality
Where the dead are alive
And the drugs are made of flesh

Strapped to a wooden chair of death
I feel the electricity surge through
Flesh and bone start to crumble
The dead are my new friends