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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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My lord knows that I've been sinking. |
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The sanctuary's skin has finally been lifted. |
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The symphony has grown silent with distaste |
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from the grime it's sound produces and it's elegance in waste. |
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I've grown blind to my eyelids they are the my guardians of naught. |
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The sight my innards seek to dispatch is the very reason I am wrong. |
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Call upon the almighty one for He is the only one who saves. |
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Call upon the almighty one, protector of the graves. |
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All you've said is now forsaken. |
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What you've come to believe is forsaken. |
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All you've said is now forsaken. |
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What you've come to believe is forsaken. |
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As the wretches of this pit of heart cry we will all know what is indeed forsaken. |
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As the wretches of this pit of heart cry we will all know what is indeed forsaken. |
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Restless in a mess of contagion strains and mismatched thought, |
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lay the silent eyes of black heart nights eternally searching for missing parts. |
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The tunnels lights are dim without fractions of time to think for second thoughts. |
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Sink or rise there is no swim. You live, you rise, you drink, you die. |
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The sky emerged with the black of dusk and the scent of angels left us dust |
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with aromas filled of conspired trust, as he could turn away from God. |
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The words unspoken fill syringes with not blood but black eclipses |
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of our hearts not sanctified and in the image of our faith denied, |
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beseech of the Lord and beg for sight. |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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Tear it from the chest |
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all the conflicting inflictions |
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while it settles in the head, |
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parasitic-like thoughts. |
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Tear it from the chest |
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all the conflicting inflictions |
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while it settles in the head, |
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parasitic-like thoughts. |
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This flawless design can never be duplicated |
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when the cycles of the earth fold the world infinite with signs. |
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Let the truth be the prey of the faith-stricken cold |
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and when the core is warmed up ask for the path from the lord. |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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As we shed the pretence and the dawn has stained itself a place in mind, |
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the search is unending until we finally find. |
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Our creator. Our sustainer. |
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Our creator. Our sustainer. |
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In whom we only seek refuge. Our Guardian. |
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Our creator. Our sustainer. |
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In whom we only seek refuge. Our Guardian. |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
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Can you show me what it's like to be alive? |
