My eyes and ears now focus on the change
|
If friendship sanf a song my voice would strain
|
Every note's in vain, every note
|
In this spiteful harmony
|
No conscience, no thought process, no release
|
Your outlet of aggression begs you please
|
Care for your disease
|
And breed the perfect tragedy
|
How is this my fault?
|
And this is my life?
|
Enduring every passing day
|
The voice inside your head will say,
|
Am I a failure?
|
It's time to walk away
|
Worshipping this casualty
|
Inhaling what we need
|
To fill the lungs of his dead machine
|
Can't believe the pain it's taking the pictures perfect
|
The frame is breaking
|
As we draw closer your cold shoulder shows that you were so opposed
|
And I can't believe this is the way you've killed yourself
|
Worshipping this casualty inhaling what we need
|
To fill the lungs of this dead machine
|
|
-----------------
|
Filling The Lungs (Of This Dead Machine)
|
| Anadivine |
