When your aspirations crumble
|
At the feet of your tormentors
|
And your jaw feels like it's breaking
|
On the cold hard tile floor
|
And you're holding onto something
|
That does far more harm than good
|
Well then you've reached the pits of hell
|
And there in hell you'll find the steel
|
|
To smash your skin until it's calloused
|
To grind your teeth down to the bone
|
To tear your tongue out from its shelter
|
And bleed out all alone
|
And when we get there we'll tread heavy
|
Through the boneyards and the filth
|
We'll grace the presence of the vultures
|
And spit fire of the gods
|
|
We'll both sit in our skin
|
And hate the places we have known
|
When your back feels like it's breaking
|
And your skin has turned to stone
|
And you are standing in the fire
|
And you are wishing to go back
|
Well then you've reached the pits of hell
|
Well then you've reached the pits of hell
|
|
I took this journey through the mirror
|
Took a chance to take my time
|
Just to watch the cold hard steel of burden
|
Come and break my heart and spine
|
|
I took a blade, a glass, a noose
|
And then I smashed my mind in two
|
With a bottle, pills and notion that I
|
Could drink my problems dead
|
I reached the cold pits of hell
|
And then I split my mind in two
|
And dragged my cold heart through the snow
|
And felt the coldest burn
|
Of all the grief I've come to know
|
Of all the grief I've come to know
|
|
I took this journey through the mirror
|
Took a chance to take my time
|
Just to watch the cold hard steel of burden
|
Come and break my heart and spine
|
[x2]
|
|
I've got a story here to tell you
|
Best you listen or grow cold
|
Cause if you choose the path I've chosen
|
Chances are you won't grow old
|
Won't grow old
|
|
-----------------
|
Olde English 800
|
| The Amity Affliction |
