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letra de wood (christ analogue remix) - killing floor

stacked up high, leaning down
fit of panic, bending back again
the straps hold my hands against the chair
my ear feels things it’s never felt before
sensations bring about disgust
can i trust myself to do what should be done
or should it resurrect itself and breathe
like flowers wilting in the sun
fading colors turning blank
pages moving ’round my thumb
changing time and sending back
negation that unfolds spreading out
over horizons to cover up the cold
and bring the rain that falls upon my face
leaves blow by, collecting thought
bringing back a warmer day of filth
that holds my head and say that better days are now instead
the future’s much too dry
no water in the cup of life
complacent gods of nothing now because the chain can cut

and take away these things we should
hold dear
no one to blame but ourselves for thinking now
was more than anything but greed
turning upside down
a wall becomes a fence to climb upon

guilt never makes the sane man cry anymore anything
that mattered then reduce to parable or shrine
tired are they who never sleep awoken by their dreams
who will be there when
they need hands to hold
what if it was you?

- killing floor

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