The dancing fire is heating my thoughts
Your shadow - a pool disturbed by droplets - keeps me wanting more
Carving infinity into an illusion, the pain in the boiling pot
My soul rusts, a breeze of light keeps it alive; my curiosity opens the door.
What's your worth? Does your mind stagnate or do you pay rent in blood?
Do you follow along like a good son biting his tongue or do you want to change the eternal song of the wrong?
Do you knock? Do you ring the bell? Or do you break in and endure the flood?
Anchored by a cloud, what goes up must come down, and it won't be long.
Your fists held back by the locks around your wrists - break the chains and float in the boiling pot
Rage followed by reason, followed by a fresh breath of mystery
Wander round or cough blood asking how or why, your mind going dry
Tis' a figment of a rock - the dirt is your world, ironic that you drown in it.
While a child unwraps an empty box, his thoughts float outside the lot
Breaking up with society, burning the pact of self-destruction, he finds the universe
A hat keeps warm but internal storms can blur the form and throw you back to the norm
Will you open your eyes to the unseen or will you relinquish it by accepting the illusion?
Your shadow - a pool disturbed by droplets - keeps me wanting more
Carving infinity into an illusion, the pain in the boiling pot
My soul rusts, a breeze of light keeps it alive; my curiosity opens the door.
What's your worth? Does your mind stagnate or do you pay rent in blood?
Do you follow along like a good son biting his tongue or do you want to change the eternal song of the wrong?
Do you knock? Do you ring the bell? Or do you break in and endure the flood?
Anchored by a cloud, what goes up must come down, and it won't be long.
Your fists held back by the locks around your wrists - break the chains and float in the boiling pot
Rage followed by reason, followed by a fresh breath of mystery
Wander round or cough blood asking how or why, your mind going dry
Tis' a figment of a rock - the dirt is your world, ironic that you drown in it.
While a child unwraps an empty box, his thoughts float outside the lot
Breaking up with society, burning the pact of self-destruction, he finds the universe
A hat keeps warm but internal storms can blur the form and throw you back to the norm
Will you open your eyes to the unseen or will you relinquish it by accepting the illusion?
