| They say to live a decent life
|
| And that your mind is cold
|
| They brand their sins onto your back
|
| And try to break your soul
|
| And when you followed in the past
|
| They put you on parole
|
| The pit that formed up all around you
|
| Had swallowed you whole
|
| You are the tainted cast-off
|
| You scorn the rising sun
|
| You are the mangled, damaged, tortured
|
| Always on the run
|
| Your silent chaos owns the night
|
| You tried to grow
|
| Did you think that you would feel so low?
|
| Scraping the bottom one more time
|
| How could you know
|
| That at this point you would feel so low?
|
| You wish for better
|
| But still you’re torn
|
| All of the lost and second chances
|
| You have left to mourn
|
| Your life is ripe to reawaken
|
| Will it be stillborn?
|
| ‘Cause when you’re fucking with the garden
|
| You will get the thorn
|
| You are the tainted cast-off
|
| You scorn the rising sun
|
| You are the mangled, damaged, tortured
|
| Always on the run
|
| Your silent chaos owns the night
|
| You tried to grow
|
| Did you think that you would feel so low?
|
| Scraping the bottom one more time
|
| How could you know
|
| That at this point you would feel so low?
|
| Been so low
|
| Got so low
|
| Been so low
|
| So low
|
| Your silent chaos owns the night
|
| You tried to grow
|
| Did you think that you would feel so low?
|
| Scraping the bottom one more time
|
| How could you know
|
| That at this point you would feel so low?
|
| Your silent chaos owns the night
|
| You tried to grow
|
| Tell me, did you think you’d feel so low?
|
| Scraping the bottom one more time
|
| And you didn’t know
|
| That at this point you would feel so low
|
| Been so low
|
| Got so low
|
| Been so low |