Handed down to us A deeper lie we can not name Your fabricated truth Diseased and absent of meaning A script so devoid, of truth, of mercy, of compassion Empty threats A souvenir of remembrance
Those not undead but unseen Of unknown name and origin Hunted, pursued, hated
The black death In the eyes of the ignorant Who hunt in packs In the empty nothingness The mill of our times grinds a story About lives lived and hollow apathy
Where solitude is sacred And where by greed they command Hunted, pursued, hated They command They command
Skeleton structures Born to be ruins Smeared histories and scratched timelines
Underlying impulses Once deserted Gazing at the bolted door A map leading you Hunting you to taking a fall Pull the trigger On angst and wasted time Fire to fear their associates
Your decisions carry the weight of them Laying bare their thoughts Soft murmurs spiraling through Migrates to those willing to hear
Our voice speaks so low Never owned our past Wander the long road throughTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
