| <March The Desert> page <March The Desert> album page |
The Deserttormented soul turned remote with the weedians breath,cold turns warm with the weedians breath, this down will return but for now i am rid of visions of my own death, all turns hope through isolation with the weedians breath. an elder once told me ‘everything will be okay in the end’, but what nurtured this idealistic belief my friend? we are creatures of present not shadows of hidden ancient path. haunted by visions of the past, torn by mankinds own hateful wrath. another elder turned and whispered ‘believe in yourself and all that you are’, i tore off my limbs with adolescence breaking bites years before, i sit on my throne at the bottom of the pit forever czar, i am the minority, the mass has evoked prospect of doom and gore. exhume the weedian breath, approach beneaths look, hope has ceased, glazed eyes mistook. we believe for nothing the suffered crushing of the peoples power torn away. blurred into sleep. greed and consumption hidden day. battery chickens for the man at top, incline painfully numb became our job. i lack all hope for the day close to hand, the great grey cloud hovers over us, continue oblivious, heads buried in sand. future remains gathering dust. lack all hope, embrace your fear, take the smoke exalt the clear, into the desert, smoke, disappear. |