| Throughout a faint transition was a final thought
|
| That said the end of times was right in front of us
|
| Gripping tight to the moment I saw myself staring at the stars
|
| By the gates of hell
|
| I cannot abide to an eye that lies to its higher mind and hides
|
| Down in the underground
|
| Where the constant mantra is deafening
|
| Where the silent flatline is beckoning me
|
| The air is dry and all we see is sky above our heads, and earth beneath our feet
|
| Our minds collide, fighting for clarity
|
| Cause this is who we are and who we’ll always b
|
| We trust the voice in our hads
|
| But we reject all the rest
|
| When fear and pain manifest
|
| Is fate just perception, finding purpose, finding reason?
|
| Nothing stays the same but time and change
|
| Sit back and watch as clocks turn back to where it all began
|
| In the end, where we begin
|
| Motion tethering presence
|
| This is us, the infinite
|
| Searching for the taste of existence
|
| The air is dry and all we see is sky above our heads, and earth beneath our feet
|
| Our minds collide, fighting for clarity
|
| Cause this is who we are and who we’ll always be
|
| The air is dry and all we see is sky above our heads, and earth beneath our feet
|
| Our minds collide, fighting for clarity
|
| Cause this is who we are and who we’ll always be
|
| We trust the voice in our heads
|
| And in a faint transition was a final thought
|
| That said the end of times was right in front of us
|
| Gripping tight to the moment I saw myself staring at the stars
|
| By the gates of hell |