Creating Something Out Of Nothing, Only To Destroy It Lyrics - Bless The Martyr & Kiss The Child - Norma Jean

Your eyes, your concrete eyes 

Cross crisscross my path 

Walking in circular patterns 

Shoe shine your ammo, polish your metal 

I need not your wicked weapons 

My war is not with someone like you 

A string of blood that is not my own strings between 

Increase time and it will fall into place 

A sword and my heart 

So much so that it makes it's way through my throat giving me thought to speak 

This becomes my pistol 

This becomes my dagger of my time 

Don't sell out 

It all comes to 

This becomes your future 

Unseen war 

Your weapons are useless 

Drop the gun 

Golden gun 

Like bringing a knive to a gun fight