I feel a terror that is flowing deep below
It's made of nothing yet it bleeds
From each incision comes what we then call a soul
For without pain what could there be?
Each day is lit by this condition
The taste of life stokes the fire
The way is grey and everlasting
But how could it be any other way?

The virtue of the recklessness
The virtue of flying solo
The virtue of having nothing in your heart
The virtue of the recklessness
The virtue of flying solo
The virtue of the nothing in the heart

I have a vision of a thread that goes beyond
Bereft of personality
From each decision comes what we would call a "self"
That endangered fallacy
Each day is lit by this condition
The taste of life stokes the fire
The way is grey and everlasting
But how could it be any other way?

The virtue of the recklessness
The virtue of flying solo
The virtue of having nothing in your heart
The virtue of the recklessness
The virtue of flying solo
The virtue of the nothing in the heart

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