wait
the passion is ending
it fell together
and it'll fall apart and now
the dead ends are binding
the ropes around our necks
so how far can we strech
we're fighting
fate's fatal grip (up?) of our graves (not sure on this line)
so trace
the phalanx
of kills
for thrills
(don't have any idea)
the passion filled, the desperate, the wasting away
too high to die
built to spill
but not to break

so climb
the steps of the dead lives
they came together
and they'll come apart like smiles
and backwoods by beatings(doesn't make sense but all i could figure out)
the days into night
nights into day
we're grazing
fields of dead memories that should blaze(not sure)
so trace
the phalanx
of kills
for thrills
the passion filled, the desperate, the wasting away
too high to die
built to spill
but not to break

i think i've lost my mind tonight
so i think i'll blow your mind this time

the passion filled, the desperate, the wasting away
too high to die
built to spill
but not to break