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.
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