The lore recycles and continues
All things end
And many begin again
This is why tradition fades like sin
And centuries lose themselves within
Moments of unforgivable issues
And we assume ourselves with misuse
And limit ourselves with disbelief
And consume ourselves in fisheye lenses
Like we knew ourselves to be prey to predators
And lure ourselves into traps of pleasure
And confuse ourselves through various measures
We dilute our blood with foreign entries
And we speak til we're blue in face and ******
And rue our own birth and death cuz
We blew ourselves into this mess
We drew ourselves this reckless verse
And ***** ourselves on every turn
But there is a light beyond the stars we think we know
There is a distant life we knew upon infringing our own birth stone
And anguish may be what we think is answers wrapped in shrouded homes
But the truth is that our treasures live beyond time and distance and dismemberment
And though the angel cries that she's asleep, she's too awake to compensate
She's so alive her blood boils thin and she thinks she might die this very day.