Flame keeps looping in my head
Gas tempts, blade even more
Death's dweller in one empty room
It inhabits this fake grave
As we all drown in each otherâs relics
And search the end with hopeful smiles
This straitjacket of my own hands
Keeps tighteningâ¦
it keeps tighteningâ¦
Ground keeps turning
red under my feet
My sense is gone
I will gather those things I left behind
And build my horns
from ashes of fictional deeds
When the world is laying
its weight on me
What will remain?
What will remain is greed
When this falls apart
I will capture the spoiled side of me
and let it wait for another discontent soul
They will turn loose the evil side of us
and lifeâs pressure ends
Gather those things I left behind
And build my horns
from ashes of fictional deeds
When the world is laying
its weight on me
What will remain?
What will remain is greed