No seed will grow of this barren earth.
Our hope unborn has died.
I've slept in the dirt under the light
of the moon and I know our souls have perished.
Calling to those that would hear but I am deaf.
Clawing at those that would feel
but I am dead to my own fears.
Our cancer has grown into a stone.
This water tastes like poison.
Your doomsday machine towers above
me to instill my vision.
Glowing pyre in the wind,
like a glowing pyre in the wind I stand to heal.
I tried to touch the feelings they have shown,
our cancer's grown into a stone.
More cracks as our ceiling caves in.
This is our destiny.
These are visions, visions on.
Souls At Zero
- To Crawl Under One's Skin
- Souls at Zero
- The Web
- A Chronology for Survival