Make no mistakes, this is our last dying day.
Heed the warning and please don't block the gate.
You were born right in the grave.
The Son Of Man no longer walks the earth but he runs in my veins.
And perhaps this is a beating heart but its fuel injected.
Without a doubt I am the quiet version of peace.
All these moments in grace, an angry fist before the panic rage.
I'll stand firmly like a wall with my body,
"No one can come to the Father except through me."
Maybe this is just a stray bullet but I'll keep it insane.
You were the culture I truly despise,
Even angels have heart attacks when you should of died.
There is no ending like this one tonight.
Our sky looks pretty, when it burns with light.
No comments:
Post a Comment