These scenes of aggression stab through the depression
Holy times flickering against a wall with a slow burning feeling
Salvation is on the tips of our tongues
Our final days are appearing... over the horizon
Blood stains the sun and watches us wither and writhe
Like an anxious man standing at the end of a line
How many more times will this haze cover the way home?
Hungry for something more that lies will not reach
Lying face down on the white sandy beach
Found the last known residence of her other world.
Now close your eyes I am way out of reach.

Nothing like a closed door.
Locked out.