Lyrics
These dying embers of repressed ambition: I forsake.
This crying performance of mortality: I leave behind.
God may forgive you, but I never will.
Et in arcadia ego….
we never really had a chance to build this house, even when we tried so hard,
stone by stone, piece by piece, ive built it in my head.
I think I started living there, while what we really had, was turning into dust.
it was full of stairs and mirrors and reflections, like a castle of wishes
adorned with deception.
no one has ever came to my door, but I think i saw you try. «you must find this
place in your heart for the one you love the most" — that is myself.
«why do you say that, you never wet this road before" — you made me observe.
each word, each cut, open wound.
I stitch them up, but my scars, will do a lifetime with me.
I loathe the faith I had.
I despise this hope forlorn.
Through the ashes of intention, life is a one man show.
I came to the point, where happiness is what is left to the willing.
I throw a match behind my back.
This house took years to built and a moment to burn.