| Feel some pressure
|
| An undistinguished knot of waste
|
| Rising in your chest
|
| The man laid open, a soul to test
|
| Is this your last breath?
|
| Cry, we have come too far…
|
| Lonely sunrise, climbing into the sky
|
| Only to sleep…
|
| We walk alone
|
| Alone exposed to just blood and bone
|
| Scouring graveyards
|
| An empty Ritual for the hordes
|
| In search of ourselves
|
| Like complicated insects will
|
| We discover strangers
|
| When all drops silent
|
| A grave where no light gets in
|
| The world resents it
|
| When all is placid
|
| A tranquil place in time
|
| Our Earth shattered
|
| We ain’t getting by…
|
| Dusted twilight, spilling into moonlight
|
| All our lives we’re waiting to die
|
| Open up your eyes
|
| The sleeping eyes of time passed by
|
| Never to realize
|
| What might have been sin or doubt
|
| Coming from the riverside
|
| The side that’s dried and petrified
|
| Are screams of MERCY…
|
| Why mercy’s expected is beyond the point of points
|
| Of points…
|
| Of points…
|
| IN FEAR OF THE RIVER
|
| We trample under a billion stars
|
| And vines that wind over the houses
|
| And past the trees
|
| Smothering everything… |