| Our time is borrowed and forced
|
| We atrophy in your ascension for more
|
| The writing on the wall is fading
|
| Cascading down and blacking out our light
|
| We atrophy in your ascension for more
|
| The words are weighed to chapters closing
|
| The pages kept the ones who’ve lost their stride
|
| I see you’ve written out the lines upon the course you’d have us ride
|
| But what if we refuse to sign?
|
| I won’t follow you down
|
| You fan the flames to torch the future
|
| While I watch you burn it to the ground
|
| You fan the flames to torch the future
|
| I think I found the answer to the question
|
| Maybe moving on is our salvation
|
| It’s pulling teeth to start again
|
| Lines still remain suspend your sentence
|
| An open-ended story you would bind
|
| This ink we bleed is drawn from knowing
|
| You’d lose the plot in trying to survive
|
| It’s pulling teeth to start again and again
|
| But what if we refuse to?
|
| And I won’t follow you down
|
| You fan the flames to torch the future
|
| While I watch you burn it to the ground
|
| You fan the flames to torch the future
|
| I think I found the answer to the question
|
| Maybe moving on is our salvation
|
| Is this a self-fulfilling prophecy?
|
| Is this your self-fulfilling prophecy?
|
| And I won’t follow you down
|
| You fan the flames to torch the future
|
| While I watch you burn it to the ground
|
| You fan the flames to torch the future
|
| I think I found the answer to the question
|
| Maybe moving on is our salvation
|
| It’s pulling teeth to start again |