I'm not sick, I'm just a boy. Sifting through the new found lie. And I'll be crawling through these ashes and dissecting all these flies. Since the sun has died and it is still somewhat July.
Open to May, when we were young and brave. Took steps to remove me, I'll come in and out with the tides. The lost and the love, I admire. You had every chance to close this, to take it all down and out of sight.
Forever we'll go out into the night with survival in all our eyes. With knives in hand we stab at the sands of time. To turn back and unwind. Under the death of an age we were becoming stronger than....