| Blast-doors protect no life
|
| No shells left, wishing for a cigarette to light
|
| Planes dip overhead, knowing what comes next makes it worse
|
| Bow to the distance as I witness the mammoth disperse
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| Char on my legs, or could it be blood
|
| As pitch black as it comes
|
| Ashes where I thought bodies…
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| Candlelight from distant windows are luring, trust not
|
| No hope
|
| No hope
|
| Flesh bubbles and soaks in the mire
|
| Sunlight dimming, killing all human desire
|
| Beckons the last wave of death
|
| Broken they talk, and lost are the souls from the nest
|
| No hope |