| When you tricked them into your condemned dream
|
| You didn’t know who would have control
|
| Where it took seconds to shape fortunes
|
| Your pains it weighed down hell
|
| Spilling blood to cleanse the memories
|
| That you know made you so frail
|
| Empty eyes look through the barrel, sweating fingers on the gun
|
| One push off the threshold to target sympathies
|
| Just a broken statue and the world remains unchanged
|
| So close and still no place where anything would end
|
| Trapped between blooded walls
|
| And the fight was there today
|
| Fists breaking against the concrete
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| None to forgive no strength to run
|
| How could it be how would it end?
|
| When you wake up you wish them to cry
|
| Fragments of this being fragments of its meaning to burn away
|
| Suffocating in the grasp of this hate
|
| Driven to fire your last round
|
| Escape from the air and drown under the earth
|
| Dead mirror by the wayside, nowhere to turn
|
| An empty shell buried to the ground
|
| Prepare yourself to forfait
|
| Another saviour just another failure
|
| Where bleak winds grind the surface
|
| Fear and regret stain dim recollections
|
| An act of rash solutions
|
| Last one there, the broken statue
|
| Built with hands that are bleeding
|
| Empty eyes look through the shattered image
|
| And their pain it weighs down hell
|
| Spilling blood to cleanse the memories
|
| That you know make you so frail
|
| How could it be how would it end?
|
| When you wake up they are holding your time
|
| Fragments of this being fragments of its meaning |