Letra de Wide Eyes Towards the Sky
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Seek the truth, crush the doubt.
Force fed lies, slit the throat.
Bite the hand, gag my mouth.
Force fed lies, slit the throat.
Bite the hand, gag my mouth.
Burn my eyes, breathe the smoke.
Bind my wrists, slap the face.
Grit your teeth, bite the brick.
This will soon be the end of the pain and of the guilt.
Cold is the grasp, the dead breath of my friend. In this age of senseless faith, I propose an intervention. Bold and focused our arms will not fail with stentorian voices, if we hold the evidence to be true to ourselves as the crust and the rust belies the trust.
Wide eyes towards the sky awaiting a sign of recognition for the cries and the trials of this reprehensible world. A toeless foot holds me off kilter, gagged clumsy and dumb. The longest hours spent staring at where you once stood. My eyes wide towards the sky, flesh beckoning stalking vultures, as my soul escapes its earthly restraints.
I want to watch it all end, it will be beautiful. Pull me under or lift me up, but do it now. Set me free of these terrestrial shackles. I will stand here waiting, watching, living, naked, broken, with wide eyes towards the sky.
Wait for night to come. Perform the sacred rite. Alter my consciousness so they might see the light.
I've grown too accustomed to all the wrong things,
the sight of the meek
and the taste of my blood,
the anger of men and their slickness, this land full of hate and so full of sickness. This will stand as an unanswered question, a beckoning riddle. This cloud shrouded sky lets the birds move in secret, a migration unnoticed as I do what I never thought possible and say again what I never meant.
Daunted by your very breath, but enticed enough to lay at your feet. Daunted by your very breath, but enticed enough to lay at your feet. I write with heavy hands and noble intent, a fiery letter to the collector of complicated truths, who whittles us thin and naked. Falling on the eyes again, dumbfounded by fools and the rules of the gesture. The dance is decadent. A gestating apocalypse lies in wait. Of arrows slung far and shadows cast long, I'll fashion a fortress from the ignorant hordes. Waiting watching waiting watching living.
Wait for night to fall.
Write it out in blood.
Light myself ablaze, so they might see the light.
Wait for night to fall.
Write it out in blood.
Light myself ablaze, so they might see the light.
You made a bed of fire, tucked yourself into flame. Eyes that hurt to open will never close again. Your final breath might keep countless more alive. Your dying breath may prove to be your greatest fight. Finding solidarity in solitude and giving body to the dead voices with wide eyes towards the sky.
Bind my wrists, slap the face.
Grit your teeth, bite the brick.
This will soon be the end of the pain and of the guilt.
Cold is the grasp, the dead breath of my friend. In this age of senseless faith, I propose an intervention. Bold and focused our arms will not fail with stentorian voices, if we hold the evidence to be true to ourselves as the crust and the rust belies the trust.
Wide eyes towards the sky awaiting a sign of recognition for the cries and the trials of this reprehensible world. A toeless foot holds me off kilter, gagged clumsy and dumb. The longest hours spent staring at where you once stood. My eyes wide towards the sky, flesh beckoning stalking vultures, as my soul escapes its earthly restraints.
I want to watch it all end, it will be beautiful. Pull me under or lift me up, but do it now. Set me free of these terrestrial shackles. I will stand here waiting, watching, living, naked, broken, with wide eyes towards the sky.
Wait for night to come. Perform the sacred rite. Alter my consciousness so they might see the light.
I've grown too accustomed to all the wrong things,
the sight of the meek
and the taste of my blood,
the anger of men and their slickness, this land full of hate and so full of sickness. This will stand as an unanswered question, a beckoning riddle. This cloud shrouded sky lets the birds move in secret, a migration unnoticed as I do what I never thought possible and say again what I never meant.
Daunted by your very breath, but enticed enough to lay at your feet. Daunted by your very breath, but enticed enough to lay at your feet. I write with heavy hands and noble intent, a fiery letter to the collector of complicated truths, who whittles us thin and naked. Falling on the eyes again, dumbfounded by fools and the rules of the gesture. The dance is decadent. A gestating apocalypse lies in wait. Of arrows slung far and shadows cast long, I'll fashion a fortress from the ignorant hordes. Waiting watching waiting watching living.
Wait for night to fall.
Write it out in blood.
Light myself ablaze, so they might see the light.
Wait for night to fall.
Write it out in blood.
Light myself ablaze, so they might see the light.
You made a bed of fire, tucked yourself into flame. Eyes that hurt to open will never close again. Your final breath might keep countless more alive. Your dying breath may prove to be your greatest fight. Finding solidarity in solitude and giving body to the dead voices with wide eyes towards the sky.
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