|
Concentric circles |
|
Forever closing in |
|
Another travesty |
|
That never should have been |
|
The latest entry |
|
On an ever-growing list |
|
And yet you never change your ways |
|
Your denial still persists |
|
Run away, run away |
|
Run away from the setting sun |
|
Run away, run away |
|
Run away from the things you've done |
|
With accusing fingers |
|
You jut into the air |
|
To single out the ones |
|
You blame for your despair |
|
But the mirror's broken |
|
No reflection can it afford |
|
Only scattered glances |
|
Of it's pieces on the floor |
|
Run away, run away |
|
Run away from the setting sun |
|
Run away, run away |
|
Run away from the things you've done |
|
The ground beneath you |
|
Will crumble into dust |
|
The breath that forms your words |
|
Will never fill your lungs |
|
And as your senses dull |
|
A thought enters your mind "I'm that one who caused all this there was no one else this time" |
|
Run away, run away |
|
Run away from the setting sun |
|
Run away, run away |
|
Run away from the things you've done |
