The Search for Nothing
Huddled masses congregate
At the edge of a gaping chasm
Huddled masses congregate
At the edge of a gaping chasm
God's presence washes over me
Like the sun setting over black mountains
God's presence washes over me
Like the sun setting over black mountains
Huddled masses congregate
At the edge of a gaping chasm
My soul burns slowly
And my hands spasm
My soul burns slowly
And my hands spasm
At the edge of a gaping chasm
Huddled masses congregate
At the edge of a gaping chasm
God's presence washes over me
Like the sun setting over black mountains
God's presence washes over me
Like the sun setting over black mountains
Huddled masses congregate
At the edge of a gaping chasm
My soul burns slowly
And my hands spasm
My soul burns slowly
And my hands spasm
Credits
Writer(s): Massa Nera
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