Quiet clicks and the sound of his breathing Tired fingers ache He says: "My addiction is all I am proud to believe in" and lingers awake And the thicker his skin, the worse it burns His Icarus wings will fail An indicative fling turns to a curse And he sees everything through a veil All to no avail, what's the use To surrender and pour your heart out If it gets abused by an army of strangers Chopped to pieces and carved out The knife might as well be real When it twists inside his wound He was tied down long ago and can't feel What it's like not to live in a tomb People have tendency to point and assume And to avoid what is doomed to despondent failure Better cast it aside before it can bloom That night was the tipping point To become a man and get pushed right back Dropped down from the arms of his savior Everything changed, just like that
Leave all hope behind the sun Leave all hope behind the sun
The morning froze my steaming breath And no one knows, they dream in stead My palms are hot, I've seen it all No qualms, just a plot and its repeated call My force is great, it's orchestrated morbid ways to imagine No more frustrated, forced and labored Wars to attain attachment To anything, I am setting myself free, and letting them know There's only one purpose I serve now: to be ready to go I am become legend, I am become fiction A story that only has an end I only wish I could see it be written But my kind will know me as a king Slowly I begin, the moment has come Run for your life, I'm giving you a head start And start with a backwards count From 10 to 1, time to get smart
Leave all hope behind the sun Leave all hope your time has come
Now they all explain and try to comprehend his decisive moods in Comforting phrases and look dismayed when the truth eludes them Maybe it was always in him or maybe it was all just a mood swing Some lady on the radio said we got lucky we only had to lose ten As things have turned out From official statements to word of mouth The invisible ones you don't learn about Sometimes won't turn around At the final minute, or the sight of pain A chaos of pleading voices When the mind is committed to blind disdain It's deaf to reason or choices You'll never know more about the world than you did at 17, a grown up kid Children have slid far from the days Of innocent play, and they're harder to raise Yet who here would take a hold of us Who would be bold enough and willing to admit That no one is ever old enough To keep their heads all happy and fit Most who have grown here don't stick around They escape the unbearable weight And all that's left now are cuts in the ground Another empty slate And his steps disappear with the melting snow There's a puddle on the doorstep To accept this fear is a terrible blow If we don't, we have lost it