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/