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Вершы: Ambition (Of Creation) (The). Heavy Are The Lungs. Nineteen.


...And these days of august have raped our innocence.
And since when has depression become our only form of comedy.
The hours of the unreal become some of the loneliest we've ever known.
Prayers to an unknowing God seem to solace the feeble minded.
I have faith in our beliefs we have unfortunately stumbled upon truth.
And when the time comes our sacrifices will become meaningless.
You and your damn youth.
God forbid you think of others around you.
We're not the only ones with knives to our throats.
How can you possibly ignore this.
Or maybe that's been the reason all along.
I coult never understand.
I can see where it is we went wrong.
Halfway through your trip down the stairwell.
Or we not allowed to live on impulse anymore.
Ah bless the hybocrite and praise the violence.
Now if only I could find my matches.
your blood must be drained for the sacrifice.
Fill your veins with gasoline.
Oh the beauty of watching your pitiful corpse engulfed in flames. But i digress.
And when did it go sour we've never said these things before.
And why did you turn your back we never asked for anything more.
And when did our hearts ever poison your soul.
Your ignorance and intolerance has finally taken its toll.
Oh God please when will it end.
Punishment for an unspoken sin we cannot defend.
And these days of august have led to the foretold mourning.
And for that I will always cherish the unrelenting scorn