Bordered by hundreds of other places where none would aim one fingered glove to the exit Are there more tongues to come gonna run away from the one to say conquer the guards (gods) of our progress But stones on a plate we are shuddering away, in the pitch-shifting hum of abundance While cold iron dangerous waves of distortion lay smoldering waste to our conscience
Bordered by hundreds of other places where none would aim one fingered glove to the exit Are there more tongues to come gonna run away from the one to say conquer the guards gods of our progress But stones on a plate we are shuddering away, in the pitch-shifting hum of abundance While cold iron dangerous waves of distortion lay smoldering waste to our conscience
Golden in the arms of a raised up alarm that sway forward and motion us upwards Over your own heart lay patience upon as a blanket of warmth for the process For the moment awaits for your bones to awaken as slowly as chaste as you'd want them 'Cause the only real way to get out of this place is say all you are god (3x)
Bordered by hundreds of other places where none would aim one fingered glove to the exit Are there more tongues to come gonna run away from the one to say conquer the guards (gods) of our progress But stones on a plate we are shuddering away, in the pitch-shifting hum of abundance While cold iron dangerous waves of distortion lay smoldering waste… Conscience is consciousness slowly erased
Bordered by hundreds of other places where none would aim one fingered glove to the exit Are there more tongues to come gonna run away from the one to say conquer the guards (gods) of our progress But stones on a plate we are shuddering away, in the pitch-shifting hum of abundance While cold iron dangerous waves of distortion lay smoldering waste to our conscience
Bordered by hundreds of other places where none would aim one fingered glove to the exit Are there more tongues to come gonna run away from the one to say conquer the guards gods of our progress But stones on a plate we are shuddering away, in the pitch-shifting hum of abundance While cold iron dangerous waves of distortion lay smoldering waste to our conscience
Golden in the arms of a raised up alarm that sway forward and motion us upwards Over your own heart lay patience upon as a blanket of warmth for the process For the moment awaits for your bones to awaken as slowly as chaste as you'd want them 'Cause the only real way to get out of this place is say all you are god (3x)
Bordered by hundreds of other places where none would aim one fingered glove to the exit Are there more tongues to come gonna run away from the one to say conquer the guards (gods) of our progress But stones on a plate we are shuddering away, in the pitch-shifting hum of abundance While cold iron dangerous waves of distortion lay smoldering waste… Conscience is consciousness slowly erased
