I have been here for too long.
|
In this lonesome twisted land.
|
Marshland...
|
|
It is deep and sickening.
|
I have to find my way back home.
|
Marshland...
|
|
The only way to find myself.
|
Is to descend deeper still.
|
Marshland...
|
|
I'm stuck and cold.
|
I'm stuck and cold in marshland.
|
I'm stuck and cold where life is
|
Plentiful but nothing lives.
|
|
A voice I know speaks to me.
|
Of self-deceit and mockery.
|
|
I search for life and sights to see.
|
Somewhere beyond this cold
|
Machinery. (So take me out of this insanity).
|
|
Nothing that I say or do, Matters to the
|
Big machine. Nothing that I think or
|
Feel, matters to the big machine. If I am
|
Dead when tomorrow's gone,
|
The big machine will just move on.
|
|
The scar you gave me left my soul,
|
Hollow like the love you showed.
|
|
That empty shell you offered me,
|
Took me further away from the
|
Machine.
|
|
-----------------
|
Marshland
|
Mortiis |