| Feel the weight of a martyr
|
| It could all be yours
|
| Cut down the altar
|
| Visionaire and deepest fake
|
| Dirty gold, the colours change
|
| Hands are frozen, feel no pain
|
| I just want to hold the flame
|
| Negative feedback loop
|
| I’m spinning out of control
|
| The sickly sweetness is crushing me
|
| But I want to know
|
| If there’s no heat when I escalate the fire is cold
|
| They echo: This could all be yours
|
| Feel the weight of a martyr
|
| It could all be yours if you echo birds of prey
|
| Traitor cut down the altar
|
| It could all be yours
|
| Vultures circling the flame
|
| Nothing sacred, nothing lost
|
| When birds of prey invade my thoughts
|
| They promise I will feel the pain
|
| Not strong enough to hold the flame
|
| Negative feedback loop
|
| I’m spinning out of control
|
| The sickly sweetness is crushing me
|
| But I want to know
|
| If there’s no heat when I escalate the fire is cold
|
| They echo: This could all be yours
|
| Feel the weight of a martyr
|
| It could all be yours if you echo birds of prey
|
| Traitor cut down the altar
|
| It could all be yours
|
| Vultures circling the flame
|
| I held the power of a dying sun
|
| I climb the altar and I claim my place as God
|
| Circle with me
|
| Circle with me
|
| This could all be yours
|
| Feel the weight of a martyr
|
| It could all be yours if you echo birds of prey
|
| Traitor cut down the altar
|
| It could all be yours
|
| Vultures circling the flame
|
| Feel the weight of a martyr
|
| A traitor watching me as birds of prey never falter
|
| This could all be yours
|
| This could all be yours
|
| Circle with me |