Our inconvenient burden It could be lifted off of us If we gave up To finally let go Of the free will that we were given Our graves Above the timberline Our name chalked The pressure of wealth No longer found
The unforgiving void The forge in which our values burn The resting leech Our thinning minds In my abstinence I turn to nothing
Our graves Above the timberline Our name chalked The pressure of wealth No longer found
[x2] Let them inherit this fire now Lest they will forget that we were Ever here