Tekster: Poisonblack. Futile Man.

Still too much I recall of them
gnawed out bones which the
mattock of time buried beneath
the pavement
And to wade in the shades won't clear the air,
won't erase the stench of them dead

Will the solace be found from
the north of the ditch
Dug deep with my own beaten shovel
For sure it is not in the notes of the self-pity moan
Could it be at the end of the double barrel

The time is nigh

Until the end I'll deny that there's sense in this life
I am what I am, a futile man
And till the end I'll deny that there's meaning behind
I am what I am, a futile man

Now, hear my child this weight will land on your shoulders
You too will pay this debt of despair
I'm not here to teach you or to show you the way
It wouldn't make any difference

The time is nigh

Until the end I'll deny that there's meaning behind
I am what I am, a futile man
And till the end I'll deny that there's sense in this life
I am what I am, a futile man

Still too much I recall of them
gnawed out bones which the
mattock of time buried beneath
the pavement
And to wade in the shades won't clear the air,
won't erase the stench of them dead

Until the end I'll deny that there's sense in this life
I am what I am, a futile man
And till the end I'll deny that there's meaning behind
I am what I am, a futile man