jikan myshkin
06-08-2008, 02:25 PM
The foghorn sounds so mournful
Lost in this urban sea
Glass smashing, voices raised
Huddled against the world cowering in burning rooms
Eyes turned into the darkness
Fear buried in their souls
The voices tear apart security
Leaves us cold and exposed
Cry, long to escape, a childlike vice to avoid responsibility
Paranoia rings around the head
Darkening eyes that look into me
As they run intoxicated laughing past houses where people dream to die
And living is left to the memory and memory has run and hid
For it knows the forth coming apocalypse
Earthquakes in society
As the heart brakes soundlessly
So will the end for me
So burn your money and your books
There’s nothing between the pages
The bible sits inside of every hotel room
Homeless nomadic dictionary
Flip right through to the beginning
Leave the end to the saints
For Rome has started to burn
American media report it with glee
As palaces of finery have foundations rotting with rust
And we look blindly
For a the last grain of hope
How can this be?
Lost in this urban sea
Glass smashing, voices raised
Huddled against the world cowering in burning rooms
Eyes turned into the darkness
Fear buried in their souls
The voices tear apart security
Leaves us cold and exposed
Cry, long to escape, a childlike vice to avoid responsibility
Paranoia rings around the head
Darkening eyes that look into me
As they run intoxicated laughing past houses where people dream to die
And living is left to the memory and memory has run and hid
For it knows the forth coming apocalypse
Earthquakes in society
As the heart brakes soundlessly
So will the end for me
So burn your money and your books
There’s nothing between the pages
The bible sits inside of every hotel room
Homeless nomadic dictionary
Flip right through to the beginning
Leave the end to the saints
For Rome has started to burn
American media report it with glee
As palaces of finery have foundations rotting with rust
And we look blindly
For a the last grain of hope
How can this be?