| Under it all — a new world
|
| Under it all — a new world
|
| A new world made with the hands of madness
|
| These hands, these hands, these hands
|
| They will always do the cutting
|
| Piece by piece the pain gets worse
|
| The pain gets worse
|
| If only I could see myself right now
|
| The gathering of flesh
|
| Transforming my face into an unrecognizable state
|
| Smooth out the eyes, smooth out the lips
|
| Every mirror is a past idea smashed upon recognition
|
| (These selfish reasons… the letter is all I left for explaining)
|
| Will it be found?
|
| Will the right hands deliver the heartache I left?
|
| Will it be found?
|
| Will the right hands deliver the heartache I left?
|
| Cut until all that is left is new material
|
| Myself, day in, day out
|
| Deep down I know what I must do
|
| So much happens behind closed doors
|
| So much happens behind our closed doors
|
| This key will open them, expose us all
|
| Crusty-eyed symphony
|
| Awakened by my grunts and moans
|
| Why do I do this to myself?
|
| I suppose the choice was all mine
|
| God felt so much better before the mirror glimpse
|
| On the surface I know what I must do
|
| What I must do
|
| God felt so much better before the mirror glimpse
|
| On the surface, I know what I must do
|
| What I must do, what I must do
|
| What I must do, what I must do
|
| Folder 502:
|
| The precaution documents
|
| The fail-safe way back «home»
|
| Should I end it right here and now?
|
| The precaution documents
|
| The fail-safe way back «home»
|
| Should I end it right here and now?
|
| That would be far too selfish
|
| I shall end what I’ve begun
|
| The creation of more, more of us
|
| The skin and bones of destruction
|
| An army of weak souls, weak minds
|
| Weak souls, weak minds
|
| Weak souls, weak minds
|
| Weak souls, weak minds
|
| Weak souls, weak minds
|
| Weak souls, weak minds
|
| Weak souls, weak minds
|
| Weak souls, weak life
|
| (Written in a language I can understand. My brilliance seems questioned with
|
| these instructions. |
| Fairly obvious for precaution documents I suppose.
|
| The «Night Owls» always send me back. |
| Seems to be in ther DNA)
|
| .fade out
|
| I wake to my own whimper
|
| Ship is counting down
|
| Must regroup myself
|
| I wake to my own whimper
|
| Ship is counting down
|
| The end starts now
|
| Cut until all that is left is new material
|
| Myself, day in, day out
|
| Cut until all that is left is new material
|
| Myself, day in, day out |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Lay Your Ghosts to Rest , by - Between the Buried and Me. Song from the album The Parallax II: Future Sequence, in the genre Прогрессив-метал