Death is the irony within our limitations
Lust of the living to experience vitality
What meaning in the false safety of the sleeping young
Who never awaken to daybreak?
Be it cliche, a thought so unoriginal
If God creates, His sins are unforgivable
Laugh, he must, at the terminal child
With a beautiful mind and hardening heart
Cold creation, there is no meaning I find
The only reasons, I define (turn to ashes)
Today I see six feet and a box of pine
To live become a cruel joke if I'm to expire
We always are perched at the gallows
Relentlessly shouting out until our throats cave in
We always are perched at the gallows
Forever singing our hymns in the vacuum of time
A dreadful light, cast down
Inverts as synthetic luminescence
All have seen the perpetual fall
But none shall veer the course
All are waiting in complacency
For when eternity's flame is doused
But the rotten orchard is lost
Charred by sacred fire, sprawling into the veins of time
And the blood of man
There is falsehood in perfection
Which beyond the cherub flame lies
Within pride which swallows all sorrow
Is the needle beneath the nail
Myth which acts as fact in another generation's chemical trance
Beyond which life restores anew
Cold creation, there is no meaning I find
The only reasons, I define (turn to ashes)
Today I see six feet and a box of pine
To live become a cruel joke if I'm to expire
We always are perched at the gallows
Relentlessly shouting out until our throats cave in
We always are perched at the gallows
Forever singing our hymns in the vacuum of time
Mankind but a whisper in the breeze
When the heart is buried alone
All shall be revealed
But t'will be too late
Beyond the cherub flame lies
Pride which swallows all sorrow
The needle beneath the nail
The Eden buried in the eye
Moves quickest where weak-willed hide
It rattles the frame and renders men to blood
To rot, to bone, to dust