The passing hours of life
|
numb the pain of the pounding fists of consequence swelling on my skin
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the festering wounds of desire I have yet to obtain
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makes it hard to see the truth yet still I strain
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the faint promise of a future and thins
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I never had lies fed where I was still pondering
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the youth stolen from me and now i relize all i could have had
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and now you tell me all i could have had
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and now you give me all i could have had
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but i dont want it anymore
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I don't want it anymore
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I don't need it anymore
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No more hope just closed doors
|
and as we walk into oblivion
|
every step is a reminder of passing hours
|
of passing days
|
of passing lives
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of passing away
|
|
-----------------
|
Anvil Chandelier
|
| Disembodied |
