To the summit,
Above the hills,
Between your demons
And the pain you feel.
As you wash away torture,
But it's seductive still.
And I'll kneel at the foot of God,
But he can't redeem a thing I've done.
Everything that I've become,
It's too far gone.
So I'll look back,
At the track, I drew.
Desert footprints in stolen shoes.
A diamond sunset falling down from the sky with
Heaven's vultures circling round my mind
And from the solitude,
That I fed.
Pain and death laid in bed.
In the Vacuum of my open eyes,
As I blanket visions at the bloodshot sky.
And I'll kneel at the foot of God,
But he can't redeem a thing I've done.
Everything that I've become,
It's too far gone.
And I'll be led by the hand of God,
And tune I'll my heartstrings of all his chords.
Everything that I afford of being worn down.
Blinded by the sound
In all my letters,
I'll sign off my name, as the one who robbed freedom from the fame of the indecent and bastard child of pain, who swapped patriotism for culture without thought or shame.
And I'll kneel at the foot of God,
But he can't redeem a thing I've done.
Everything that I've become,
It's too far gone.
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