Lingering in your garden here our tired hands are bound
To toiling without pleasure in this murky earth we found
Distance is at fault here and its slowly gaining ground
So stay here at my table till proximity is sound
Keep it in, keep your last breathe, make it worthwhile
I was looking for something, when I was pulling my skin off
So if God is an acronym, some giver of damnation
Then why even bother with the concept of man
Ideals have run wild, escaped from our heads
And with the chosen so few should it warrant attempt?
And what if my fear is all that I am?
A poison to ease what small conscience I have left
But soon we’ll find we lived and died with the world in our hands
You left all your children out
You left all your children fending for our precious lives
I am the fortunate one, left with the blood in my skin
You are the only thing I hope is real in a dark world
I am the fortunate one, left with the blood in my limbs
You are the only thing I hope is real in a dark world