Peasant Hands - Time: Devourer of All Things

Melancholy
Season of
Sickness and
Humanism
I fall to the
Depths of time's hell
I fall to the
Depths of time's hell
Melancholy
Season of
Sickness and
Humanism
Time heals nothing
Disease is everyone's
Everything
I'd give everything
To preserve
As controller of life
Time heals nothing
Disease is everyone's
Everything
I'd give everything
to preserve
As controller of life
I fall
I fall
I fall victim
To a precious brittle light
Oh it dwells intimately intimate
Like the loved one
That had once
Lived at your side
Then had left you
Silent
Silence still
It still hides
The strain behind pale
Behind stone eyes
Hearts beat
Heart beats
They beat inside
So calm is the truth
Of our cold lies
Silence still
It still hides
The strain behind pale
Behind stone eyes
Hearts beat
Heart beats
They beat inside
So calm is the truth
Of our cold lies
Without warning
That worn bag of thought
Was burdened by
Death
As this moment fades
This mother of failure
Birthing moments anew
The next
Blurs in
To the next one
A dark marriage
That exits in the
Gutters of the mind
This mother of failure
Birthing moments anew
The next blurs in to the next one
A dark marriage
That exits in the
Gutters of the mind
Where father time
Slows down
My skull then smashed
Into the next
Unfinished wall
Of nothing concrete
I fall to the depths of
Time's hell
Witness a moment gone
I fall to the depths of
Time's hell
Witness a moment gone
Gone another moment
gone gone gone
Another moment
Gone gone gone
Another moment
Gone gone gone
Another moment

Written by:
Joseph Flores

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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