The Walking Deceased

No soul to sale Within, without No difference really Full of doubt Sinking beneath the pyre Dwelling on that same fire Erase your hope Lifeless from a rope Couldn't pinpoint the origin of this existential crisis Maybe it was when my mother taught me about religion. Always wondered how it felt for everything to go black Now I see our lives are a DMT trip I'm waiting for the final slip It begins to feed on our uncertainties Things we try push back into the subconscious But we can't escape these things The elephant in the room beckons us to face the cold mirror of truth I wont always be in this current state One day I will return unto my infancy And when my body breaks down There will not be a way To recover lost memories inside of me "The face at the door is within all human beings" There's no time No time like the present To have a crisis of an afterthought Of what might be beyond It begins to feed on our uncertainties Things we try push back into the subconscious But we can't escape these things The elephant in the room beckons us to face the cold mirror of truth I wont always be in this current state One day I will return unto my infancy And when my body breaks down There will not be a way To recover lost memories inside of me I wont always be in this current state One day I will return unto my infancy And when my body breaks down There will not be a way To recover lost memories inside of me I wont always be in this current state One day I will return unto my infancy And when my body breaks down There will not be a way To recover lost memories inside of me