|
I feel like I've been the finest fool |
|
Hanging on by my fingertips |
|
The ground gives way beneath my feet |
|
A black cloud descends |
|
I lose my grip |
|
Buried in the mud |
|
Lying here with no relief |
|
|
|
The world I've known in paper thin |
|
Torn in shreds my finest hour |
|
A drowning man still battling |
|
One breath rattle gathering |
|
Dust is dust, clean me now |
|
All my strings are gutted |
|
Turn it down |
|
|
|
In the paralytic nursery of bygone fears |
|
My old adversary reappears |
|
Still confronted by the many faces of Eve |
|
No matter how I try to heal this injury |
|
Still the trophies line up on the wall |
|
Pride that comes before a fall |