Since everything is backwards here
can you just be my compass, dear?
I'm sick of giving in to fear
and letting it ordain

Asunder we have grown with time
the paths we walked a scene of crime
so even if we tried to climb
our steps would be in vain

I asked you once and you replied
by putting both your legs in stride
Instead of acting as a guide
you multiplied my pain

I'm pushing through the foggy glass
and soon the day will come to pass
when I align our heavy past
with all the others slain