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Blot out the sun the miserable sun |
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I'll blacken the sky and you will see no light |
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Useless, it is all useless |
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There will be nothing |
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There is no one to help you out |
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I hear the voice of the watchman: |
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Useless, it is all useless |
|
There will be nothing |
|
There is no one to help you out |
|
Blot out the sun the miserable sun |
|
I'll blacken the sky and you will see no light |
|
You've taught us to feel worthless |
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But it's in the back of your mind |
|
That we are strong enough |
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To make it back, to make it back in time |
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There is no way out |
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And you have nothing without me |
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[Micah Kinard (Oh, Sleeper):] |
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After all these years of my pleasing and reaching |
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How easily you can be so swayed |
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Oh, by that arrogant tongue that pours slow with precision |
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All those honey-soaked words geared to sink you and keep you |
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Locked tight in such desperate but anxious grips |
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Cause he fears what burns beneath your skin |
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And he will fear what I've written |
|
You've taught us to feel worthless |
|
But it's in the back of your mind |
|
That we are strong enough |
|
To make it back, to make it back in time |
|
To make it back, to make it back in time |
|
When you're breathing in, in the place where most deny |
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You are strong enough |
|
(We can make it back in time) |
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To make it back in time |
|
When you're breathing in |
|
(We can make it back in time) |
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In the place where most deny |
|
You are strong enough |
|
To make it back in time |
