Eschaton

A closed mind is like a clenched fist
Lend your hand, feel the pull of more than man

Born free, then we were forced to believe all the fallacies passed as certainties
Find a corner, pick at the sticking once more
Culture glues to the minds of man, so we have been searching for the answers in plain site all along

Tell me does this spark fury?
Plead, you are the god you seek
Your sanity will bleed like the lines of control your're dying to let go
Reveal the pain that you've tucked away in the gloom and grey, somewhere inside these words lies the cure to this growing pain

We must find a way
I once spoke with you my friend without speaking a single word
If I cannot find the way, then the way cannot be found
(If I cannot find the way, then the way cannot be found)

Our lives are a blank page, and with each stroke of the pen lies the secrets to the universe
And every word already written is just filler, and every word yet to write is not part of the story

We are born and soon we die, we are more alike then than we are unalike
We must return to the beginning if we are to be anything worth living

Find the way
Every second growing stronger, propulsion towards something growing inside
This is an ancient rhythm you lost within misconception, the child of divination cries to be heard now

Oh, I beckon your fall, you are not coming back
Read the words between the lines, rediscover the truth that you've known the whole time



Credits
Writer(s): Roger M F Linnemann
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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