Do you feel anything at all?
Do you hear steps at the door?
Do you reckon the smell of....?
It's life-the the dark that binds you.
Frigthened by your own smell.
Bitternes will run you through.
Silent screaming.
Turning, twisting the alphabet.
Frantic eyes.
Awaiting the answer.
Splinters of a poem.
Fragments of what you used to be.
Habitual and gullible.
Run-down memoirs is all that's left.
Do you wish to sleep?
Do you aim for the shadow?
Do you feel infected?
It's life-the the dark that binds you.
Frigthened by your own smell
Bitternes will run you through
Silent screaming
Turning, twisting the alphabet
Frantic eyes
Awaiting the answer
Splinters of a poem
Fragments of what you used to be
Habitual and gullible
Run-down memoirs is all that's left
It's the cowardice that puls you under.
And takes you to the end, where it begins.
Release, the world is waiting on your arrival.
Close your eyes, as we witness another bullet ride.
Do you know about atrocity?
Do you know that everbody's gone?
Do you know that you're on your own?
It's life-the the dark that binds you.
|
