Song | The Collapse of Men |
Artist | With Life In Mind |
Album | Grievances |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
We’ve been lying to ourselves for so long. | |
We truly forgot what it means to be alive. | |
Trying so hard for a life with such little purpose. | |
How could we ever recover? | |
Lost in oblivion. | |
Through our failed attempts, we try to find some meaning in this chaos. | |
Shackled in chains, bound and held down. | |
We’re constantly repressed by our actions to live a lie. | |
We could never be content. | |
We could never face our own reflections in the mirror. | |
Told what to become. | |
Molded by the tyrants that crumbled before us. | |
We are more than just a number, more than a model of what should be. | |
An ideal. | |
A dream. | |
That was never meant for us. | |
We are the weak that work the grind. | |
Slaves to the freedoms that we’ll never experience. | |
We sit in silence and watch as life passes by in front of our eyes. | |
We are the weak. | |
We are the slaves to freedom. |
We' ve been lying to ourselves for so long. | |
We truly forgot what it means to be alive. | |
Trying so hard for a life with such little purpose. | |
How could we ever recover? | |
Lost in oblivion. | |
Through our failed attempts, we try to find some meaning in this chaos. | |
Shackled in chains, bound and held down. | |
We' re constantly repressed by our actions to live a lie. | |
We could never be content. | |
We could never face our own reflections in the mirror. | |
Told what to become. | |
Molded by the tyrants that crumbled before us. | |
We are more than just a number, more than a model of what should be. | |
An ideal. | |
A dream. | |
That was never meant for us. | |
We are the weak that work the grind. | |
Slaves to the freedoms that we' ll never experience. | |
We sit in silence and watch as life passes by in front of our eyes. | |
We are the weak. | |
We are the slaves to freedom. |
We' ve been lying to ourselves for so long. | |
We truly forgot what it means to be alive. | |
Trying so hard for a life with such little purpose. | |
How could we ever recover? | |
Lost in oblivion. | |
Through our failed attempts, we try to find some meaning in this chaos. | |
Shackled in chains, bound and held down. | |
We' re constantly repressed by our actions to live a lie. | |
We could never be content. | |
We could never face our own reflections in the mirror. | |
Told what to become. | |
Molded by the tyrants that crumbled before us. | |
We are more than just a number, more than a model of what should be. | |
An ideal. | |
A dream. | |
That was never meant for us. | |
We are the weak that work the grind. | |
Slaves to the freedoms that we' ll never experience. | |
We sit in silence and watch as life passes by in front of our eyes. | |
We are the weak. | |
We are the slaves to freedom. |