| There is an aftertaste to celebrate
|
| In the swings of my suicide
|
| Or the lines I will draw by myself
|
| Within the grasp, fictitious pasts, and all my doubts
|
| How can you see through the shadows
|
| With the blinding light (Burning in your eyes)
|
| So where will all of you be
|
| When the killing fields are cleared and the world divides?
|
| How can you see through the shadows
|
| With the blinding light (Burning in your eyes)
|
| So where will you be
|
| When the killing fields are cleared and this world divides?
|
| The loss of heart becomes unbearable
|
| And a vanishing point becomes intact
|
| So when a six foot drop is my best
|
| I will expect nothing less than a soldier’s death
|
| How can you see through the shadows
|
| With the blinding light (Burning in your eyes)
|
| So where will all of you be
|
| When the killing fields are cleared and the world divides?
|
| How can you see through the shadows
|
| With the blinding light (Burning in your eyes)
|
| So where will you be
|
| When the killing fields are cleared and this world divides?
|
| There is an aftertaste to celebrate
|
| In the swings of my suicide
|
| Or the lines I’ve drawn
|
| At last for redemption
|
| And finally for my forgiveness
|
| In the end this bitterness bends
|
| Simply encased in my withered hands
|
| How can you see through the shadows
|
| With the blinding light (Burning in your eyes)
|
| So where will all of you be
|
| When the killing fields are cleared and the world divides?
|
| How can you see through the shadows
|
| With the blinding light (Burning in your eyes)
|
| So where will you be
|
| When the killing fields are cleared and this world divides? |