Where are we going to be? It's getting so hard to
remember to feel. Struggling more and more to
recall six minutes worth of a dream, you forgot
when you woke up. Died-in-the-wool to last, for
the sake of Christ you ask,"What am I to
do?" Who is there to trust with one leg
already six feet deep? Fighting the current of
man's existence of the conciousness you can't
fucking grasp. To give, or to take for yourself?
Another night spent in silent rage, set against.
Set against yourself. Un-thought of heros. Poured
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/lirout and flowing over, at the same time bottled up,
then pissed out. Company of misery; introspect of
the fool, to your dreams you shed a distant
effort. While you rid the sense of mobility and
shatter all that could set you free. Never could
set your hands on comfort in the wars end being
your own personal revenge. Yet escaping every
sense of consequence. No this is nothing personal;
this is just who I am. Another night spent in
silent rage, set against. Set against yourself.
Un-thought of heros.