Prodigal sons, of these kindred men, who are blind to the sins of their feeding hands
Gates and borders that will help keep them safe from, when they will follow orders, without fear or brains in them.
The foundation built on bliss. Living without distress
In structural ignorance. It spreads like wild fire.
Living without the struggle
Something is missing, in turmoil
Where light is fleeting i'll be leaving
Shrouded in darkness in search of meaning.
Complications, to entertain, will breed such stress
It will rot out, all your fucking brains
Unaware of other's quest for armageddon
Will be brought on by such simple reactions.
Living without the struggle
Something is missing, in turmoil
Where light is fleeting i'll be leaving
Shrouded in darkness in search of meaning.
Dying without a struggle
Something is missing, this turmoil
All life is fleeting after i'm leaving
Protected by darkness in search
Without meaning.
There is a never ending quest to no longer
Feel meaningless, put forever to the test
Inquisitive torment, has been bent on my mind's perspective
For dilated needs.
Living without the struggle
Something is missing, in turmoil
Where light is fleeting i'll be leaving
Shrouded in darkness in search of meaning.
Dying without a struggle
Something is missing, this turmoil
All life is fleeting after i'm leaving
Protected by darkness in search
Without meaning.
Recent comments