Climbing into fire, her hands are forceful.
We're burying earth in earth.
White hands, soft hands: carefully.
This makes no sense.
What's that sound I hear?
I'm lost in a state of confusion.
Oh ground.
I despise you, but rejoice in your essence.
Envy will cease my sky.
Greed will cease my sky.
"Here's a farmer that hung himself on the expectation of plenty"
At this time I feel there is no bottom to earth.
Welcome to the museum of the dead; endless gore becomes reality.
Tradition's dug the grave.
The inferno has commenced
We're burying earth in earth.
White hands, soft hands: carefully.
This makes no sense.
What's that sound I hear?
I'm lost in a state of confusion.
Oh ground.
I despise you, but rejoice in your essence.
Envy will cease my sky.
Greed will cease my sky.
"Here's a farmer that hung himself on the expectation of plenty"
At this time I feel there is no bottom to earth.
Welcome to the museum of the dead; endless gore becomes reality.
Tradition's dug the grave.
The inferno has commenced
song info:
Verified yes
Language
Genre−
Rank−
Duration00:04:07
Charts
Copyright ©Kobalt Music Publishing
WriterAndrew Jerome Trick, Christopher Henry Rubey, James Selleck Baney, Jeremy Robert Depoyster, Larry Daniel Williams, Michael James Hranica
Lyrics licensed byLyricFind
AddedNovember 21st, 2007
Last updatedFebruary 19th, 2023
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