Guest
We are who we are afloat on high tides until the sunrise catches us out We are who we are until the end of vigor brings us to an unsuspected wake We are but illusions dead at daybreak and suspended by false alarms We are but epiphanies at wits end Too solemn for sorry hearts We leave nothing in our wake but the embers of the day when the echoes that keep haunting us are looking the same We leave nothing in our wake We leave nothing in our wake while the anchors that are drowning us all rust in the sand It gets to me and i don't even mind it but i never needed this to persevere It gets to me the palest imitations when i only needed this to disappear Prevail and retry up to the point where the shattered remnants force the restart So close to the mark until another upstart drags us down below the last percents We are the remainder of a last stand that's been smoldering for too long We are always marching to the same beat too solemn for sorry hearts There is nothing in our way but the shackles of the dead still the junk heap overlooking us is looking the same We leave nothing in our wake We leave nothing in our wake while the anchors that are drowning us all rust in the sand All the advantage taken of the star-crossed eyes that thirst for just another monument accrues like splinters broken off our bones an argentic dismay for the gold of the throne that's flaking away
