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• Artiste: Amoral
• Titre: The Last Round
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When you tricked them into your condemned dream You didn't know who would have control Where it took seconds to shape fortunes Your pains it weighed down hell Spilling blood to cleanse the memories That you know made you so frail Empty eyes look through the barrel, sweating fingers on the gun One push off the threshold to target sympathies Just a broken statue and the world remains unchanged So close and still no place where anything would end Trapped between blooded walls And the fight was there today Fists breaking against the concrete None to forgive no strength to run How could it be how would it end? When you wake up you wish them to cry Fragments of this being fragments of its meaning to burn away Suffocating in the grasp of this hate Driven to fire your last round Escape from the air and drown under the earth Dead mirror by the wayside, nowhere to turn An empty shell buried to the ground Prepare yourself to forfait Another saviour just another failure Where bleak winds grind the surface Fear and regret stain dim recollections An act of rash solutions Last one there, the broken statue Built with hands that are bleeding Empty eyes look through the shattered image And their pain it weighs down hell Spilling blood to cleanse the memories That you know make you so frail How could it be how would it end? When you wake up they are holding your time Fragments of this being fragments of its meaning