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Whispers to shield our eyes from decline of promise stagger through to elder years.
They’ve made forever deceived, blind believers of us.
Never believe your eyes. Never believe our eyes.
In these days of hell
We never learned to see past our self-importance.
We only gaze through liar’s eyes. Dull as night.
Forever. We’ll always be prisoners to these days of hell.
With tired eyes we stumble through the haze, ignorant to our failure.
Your legacy intact through insinuation and our days....days of hell.
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The Elders
05:17
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In a vast, corroding world when the stale light of dawn has come they'll ask you with frightened eyes Mother, Father, what have you done? What have we done?...
The Elders shut their eyes and turn away from the hell we've made The burden they will pass to the young will break their dreams
With ancient and sickly hands the elders will gift keys to rusted empires and barren seas
Legacies of Decadence have paved streets of greed. (Mother Father) What have you done? What have we done?
Oxen like offspring, we're born into toil, born into pain
On our backs we carry your apathy we carry your failure...we carry your lies... and from the distant alleys of tomorrow you can hear their weary cries... Hear their cries.
They'll expect you to go beginning of the end of the world
We'll hang our heads in shame and sorrow for the price that must be paid by the young of the coming dawn.
You are, you are but a whisper... to the young of the coming dawn.
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