Vestibule of Hell

Voices From The Fuselage

Compositor: Não Disponível

Seething with a hunger only you can fill
I am the specimen you bend to your will
You pertain to everything I despise and it shows
My body burns and throes
This love I yearn for, is hard to see
Though trails of smoke and enkindled trees
I have to be free

You suspect
You suspect
You suspect
But I know
Just how it feels to be pushed aside
And I know
Just how many demons still reside
I'm alone, all alone, in every essence bar my mind
My little ventricle of light
I know

Place me in containment, away from harm
All but yours, I long for calm
I pertain to everything you detest and it shows
The light will swell and grow
This world I cling to, is history
Through walls of bodies and apathy
I need some relief

You suspect
You suspect
You suspect

But I know
Just how it feels to be pushed aside
And I know
Just how many demons still reside
I'm alone, all alone, in every essence bar my mind
My little ventricle of light
I know
Just how it feels to be locked away
And I know
How you wish my ailment falls astray
I'm overthrown, overthrown by something I cannot quell
My little vestibule of hell
I know