Panic Room
Lustrous lines obscured by opaque blinds
Frozen metacarpals tap, tap, tap, the window glass
Syncopated staccatos with the broken clock
Synchronized with my post-traumatic ticks, ticks
Talking to the space in the room that echoes back indiscernibly
To my disconnected self, self
It's self-consuming, what's ensuing is my undoing
The nightly casualty of war
And it sounds like this, war, endless war
In my endless dance with entropy
I must rescind my sentience, the sickness that I know
Rearrange the disarray of disintegrated senses
Puzzle pieces, spectral splinters of a soldier's worn and tattered soul
In my endless dance with entropy
I must rescind my sentience, the sickness that I know
Machines of air looking down on us
The beasts of dust as we grapple heel and hand
Mud and sand, blood red oil
The chaff of the harvest
Converted to currencies of wealthy means
Stepping stones cut from our perforated bones
Riches are reaped beside our bodies
Sown just to be thrown back again
And forgotten if we stumble in
Laid inside a homeless nest
Stuck with eager dirty needles
Shipped to an early steeple where boxes close
Descend with grace as you defend yourself
Both charitable and chaste
Praise me for my valor, lay me on a crimson tower
Justify my endless terror as my "finest hour"
Treat me as a token to deceive the child
Whom we fatten for this scapegoat slaughter
I learned to fight, I learned to kill, I learned to steal
I learned that none of this is real
None of this is real, none of this is real, none of this is real
But there's a war inside my head
Beleaguered by my breathing, choking, screaming, heaving
Time drags me back to the desert
A child stumbles from the wreckage holding his salvation
The trigger to cessation
I took a life that takes mine
Every quiet moment we collapse
Have you forsaken us? All the darkness comes alive
Take my hand, drag me to the void
Frozen metacarpals tap, tap, tap, the window glass
Syncopated staccatos with the broken clock
Synchronized with my post-traumatic ticks, ticks
Talking to the space in the room that echoes back indiscernibly
To my disconnected self, self
It's self-consuming, what's ensuing is my undoing
The nightly casualty of war
And it sounds like this, war, endless war
In my endless dance with entropy
I must rescind my sentience, the sickness that I know
Rearrange the disarray of disintegrated senses
Puzzle pieces, spectral splinters of a soldier's worn and tattered soul
In my endless dance with entropy
I must rescind my sentience, the sickness that I know
Machines of air looking down on us
The beasts of dust as we grapple heel and hand
Mud and sand, blood red oil
The chaff of the harvest
Converted to currencies of wealthy means
Stepping stones cut from our perforated bones
Riches are reaped beside our bodies
Sown just to be thrown back again
And forgotten if we stumble in
Laid inside a homeless nest
Stuck with eager dirty needles
Shipped to an early steeple where boxes close
Descend with grace as you defend yourself
Both charitable and chaste
Praise me for my valor, lay me on a crimson tower
Justify my endless terror as my "finest hour"
Treat me as a token to deceive the child
Whom we fatten for this scapegoat slaughter
I learned to fight, I learned to kill, I learned to steal
I learned that none of this is real
None of this is real, none of this is real, none of this is real
But there's a war inside my head
Beleaguered by my breathing, choking, screaming, heaving
Time drags me back to the desert
A child stumbles from the wreckage holding his salvation
The trigger to cessation
I took a life that takes mine
Every quiet moment we collapse
Have you forsaken us? All the darkness comes alive
Take my hand, drag me to the void
Credits
Writer(s): Mitchell Stark, Thomas Freckleton, Alex Camarena, Garrett Russell, Spencer Keene
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.