The Last Round - Amoral

When you tricked them into your condemned dream

You didn’t know who would have control

Where it took seconds to shape fortunes

Your pains it weighed down hell

Spilling blood to cleanse the memories

That you know made you so frail

Empty eyes look through the barrel, sweating fingers on the gun

One push off the threshold to target sympathies

Just a broken statue and the world remains unchanged

So close and still no place where anything would end

Trapped between blooded walls

And the fight was there today

Fists breaking against the concrete

None to forgive no strength to run

How could it be how would it end?

When you wake up you wish them to cry

Fragments of this being fragments of its meaning to burn away

Suffocating in the grasp of this hate

Driven to fire your last round

Escape from the air and drown under the earth

Dead mirror by the wayside, nowhere to turn

An empty shell buried to the ground

Prepare yourself to forfait

Another saviour just another failure

Where bleak winds grind the surface

Fear and regret stain dim recollections

An act of rash solutions

Last one there, the broken statue

Built with hands that are bleeding

Empty eyes look through the shattered image

And their pain it weighs down hell

Spilling blood to cleanse the memories

That you know make you so frail

How could it be how would it end?

When you wake up they are holding your time

Fragments of this being fragments of its meaning