This is the faith complex Where all it takes is another step so we can then step again it's not all about the numbers This is the faith complex try not
Science has become a childa??s game. There is no solution to bring away this plague. .... No remedies have been discovered. The cure is a shotgun, the
What's up, Fresh? It's our turn, baby Gator Boots, with the pimped out Gucci suit Ain't got no job but I stay sharp Can't pay my rent 'cause all my money
This is the faith, this is the faith complex Where all it takes is another step So we can then step again It's not all about the numbers It is not all
Now that it's here, it's too late The whole wide world Is fearing the wrong things Falling down a cold staircase And persistently I darken my shadow
You were nothing but an obstacle In my pathway tripping me with my own trust Without your hood of falsification Your beauty is found to be nothing But
[instrumental]
Here lies my pride, don't come back Here lies my pride, just die, don't come back Mass chaos is our weapon of unification Tied are you by the scarlet
Be gone with you, you articles of nothingness I don't know what I have to do to prove myself This audience is stern Gray is what has risen from the pits
(Instrumental)
This cold floor we know too well Hearts poisoned with pride Black blood dotting our warmth Ending our contentment This place is a contorted altar I must
[Jeremy:] Excuse me stranger, what are you embracing? [Cole Wallace:] The roots of the ground live in blood as we speak [x2] I can sense the rhythm and
And yet I've been cleansed with the water. A purity no mind can grasp. A purity so cool upon my fingertips. The vision that i have seen: this is the action
I would like to burn this down. I would like to see it melt in yellow and observe a cloud of blackness rise. Watch it rise as it is wrath himself. Watch
You've compromised your doctrines You've surrendered yourself to fashion. Come back to your faith; Come back to grace. He sang with us and loved others
Distance decreases As if time is a dying cockroach Plagues enclose Plagues enclose Sitting upon this wooden bench I am helpless to billions of bullets
I wish to turn around and return (to her warmth and laughter), but this calling is strong, and denial is impossible. No measure of weight can justify
I am the speaker but what is responsibility? This is beg of you, build me brick upon brick. High tides; waves of hypocrisy. I didn't think the clock struck