Lletres: Dew-scented. 18 Hours.

Searching for meaning to this life
playground, the self
awaking forever day by day, in bleak disclosure
hoping to find serenity in a silent dream
but the mind is restless

open eyes, OPEN HANDS, SACRIFICIAL THRILL
PROCESS THE POISON, state of defeat

striving for reason in my mind, THROUGH HELL AND BACK
forever and ever to remain blinded by rage
expecting eternal sympathy in this MISERY
BUT THE PAINS ARE RECKLESS

OUT OF SOUL, devouring fevers
taste of imperfection, its 18 hours to die...

the weakness of the will, beyond retrieval we carry on
you'll hear it ONE LAST TIME now
IT'S 18 HOURS TO DIE!


THAT'S HOW WE TURN OUR INSIDES OUT
and then we break in
consume the flesh to heal the fate
STILL 18 HOURS LEFT TO...GO!

the weakness of the will, beyond retrieval we carry on
you'll hear it ONE LAST TIME now
IT'S 18 HOURS TO DIE!

18 HOURS TO DIE
forever
18 HOURS LEFT TO DIE
just 18 hours left to go!