The Collapse Of Western Mysticism

If these walls could talk, they'd tell me to run
They've heard all the promises and seen all the blood
Nowhere to turn to nowhere to jump
A single story lost and found, we're falling down

This is poetry, breathing openly
This is keeping up,this is keeping up
All the effort I put into leveling out
Is balanced on a hairpin

Letting go when the lungs cave inall part of the end game
And I still look under my bedbefore I sink in
I swear I burn the remains
When I sit down to write these secrets

One way out is gonna jam the receivers of
My own devices
When I make my escape you'll
Hear the alarms engage
For once I'm neck deep in it
Just one more waytodrown
Finding out everyone's a critic
In a world, that kicks you when you're down

If these were the last words I got out
Just know they were different, know they were loud
Sometimes the end is just the beginning
Sometimes the end is just the beginning
Sometimes the end is just the beginning
Sometimes it's only the end