Porno - 25th hour
Intro:
My anvil eyelids ache, as I rip open my blood sealed eyes/
An eternal eclipse, no more burning, the burning turned to a crisp/
Vers 1:
Where I use to have a sun shining set in the sky/
I better just die, worst came to worst dont care if Im dead or alive/
The last hope, second coming head of tribe/
Blank memories and a feather pen to describe/
What I intend with my life, when I play chess, lay dead in the reflection set in the scythe/
Before the black robe takes a swift turn of heel/
Ill let my rap flow, burn eternally/
Realese my fury over a flurry of beats/
The seas perty but keeps looking blurry to me/
The curtains are closing in my 25th hour/
So I bury opponent with my deadly syth power/
A dark lord battling the hands of time, saber cut the chronological limb/
Alterd the mans design/ His heart ticked another beat/
He would give it all up for just another beat/
Cuts
Vers 2:
TV flickering doctrines in this technocracy/
caged to sustain the change of our next prophecy/
You can get your revolution anurisms from data wisdom cataclysms/
Staggerd victem, Rapid vision, and the rest off of me/
A white stain on your sheets and a chance to see god is what petty sex offers me/
Supress oddeties, beneth welded doors, barricated reinforced floors, lock and keys/
The time comes, when it all goes silent/
So I vent, my tears in a dusty wind/
To prevent my fears, why must it end/
I see my rusty freinds, fuck god, carroding slowly in the junk yard/
Is it just hard, or are we retreating a winning battle/
leave them greaving in the grinning shadows/
Believing that we giving it our all/
Of what we have to give/
The angels will fall, somebody has to live/
a dedication to feel, embracing his will/
Copying the values and paper tracing the skill/
This paper chasing, got my heart racing, like a mental goth patiant before making the kill/
Cuts
Vers 3:
Coughing red blood under a black moon, trying to retrace the steps/
The moment of tormenting clarity where both their faces met/
Hope is tenacious but its grace has left/
when your lungs become vacant and you taste your breath/
For the first and very last time/
the moist oxygen leaves your throat heavy and dry/
Try to keep you hand steady but it shakes in every try/
Feeling like your burried alive, the cold touch of death leaves you with jelly inside/
After you burry your pride your heart stops to fight and your ready to die/
When you accept your fate, is when your heart stops to fight and your ready to die/