Prone Mortal Form - текст песни
Prone Mortal Form
[Jenkins/Stevenson]
Who's at the helm
Of the purge that looms?
Should I bother trying to see
Outside of this room?
I can tell you now, I'll be left behind
On that fabled day
When the beggars will ride
The distant, crushing call to continue
Makes a heart sink willingly
Into a chemical bath
Every insecurity reminds you
Of the voice determining your choice of path
Believe me now, I'll be left behind
On that fabled day when the beggars will ride
If I champion misfortune, is it just
Just an extension of
Dismantling a pale facade
My disdain for convention
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