1. |
Mosaic
02:38
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Your hate is suffocating. I’m sick of tolerating your narrow perception.
Your definition of perfection is no longer accepted. We reject it.
We’ll take hammers to your walls and we’ll weep with joy as we watch them fall.
The frame of reality is stained from the bigotry you paint.
It’s archaic. Your lines are cracked and fading. No longer restraining.
We’ll take hammers to your walls and we’ll weep with joy as we watch them fall.
With the pieces from the whole, we’ll build something beautiful.
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2. |
Burial at Sea
03:06
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So sorry for interrupting. I caught you wading out into dark waters again. Should I leave you be, to be alone with the anchor you hold so dear? Because I won’t sit here and watch you sink.
I’m sick of speaking softly and I don’t believe you’re sorry. Your words no longer mean a thing to me when your actions scream adversely.
And damn you for making me feel this way. I’m done with letting this weigh on me. Looking back I question the legitimacy of everything you’ve ever said to me. When what remains of you has gone, we’ll have moved on. You brought this on yourself. Condemned your loved ones to this hell.
I’m sick of speaking softly and I don’t believe you’re sorry. Your words no longer mean a thing to me when your actions scream adversely.
So go ahead and sink into the depths. Let the waves wash away all that’s left. We no longer mourn. You’re already gone.
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3. |
Phoenix
03:48
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The cold hits so hard, and it strands you with your thoughts. The wind rips your heart. Your fire has gone out. Sleepless, you spent the night twisting the knife, and come sunrise, nothing shines. Reliving frame after frame, you give yourself to the pain, and concede that things will never be the same. It seems a hopeless fight against the dark that resides,
but it’s from ashes that we rise.
I know all too well of being trapped in this place. I can see it written so plainly on your face. You try to hide your eyes, but I’ve seen the same in mine. Grounded with this new-found fear of heights. It’s not a hopeless fight. Let phoenix take flight.
It’s from ashes that we rise.
So heal your wounds and mend your wings. Take to the sky again.
Reach out for a hand to hold that will lead you back to the world.
It only takes the slightest spark to reignite your heart. Let phoenix fly.
It’s from ashes that we rise.
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Progress Waterbury, Connecticut
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