The ground from where I stood is barren; Home to only those who seem to stand it
This pit from where I lay seems bleak, but it's the greatest night of sleep I've had all week
These idle hands were soon at work, in hopes to free the reaper of his worth
Soon I found my solace in this space, then all the locals rallied in a haste to watch it burn
I've fallen into a cliché. Save my exit for another day
The air felt burnt as tension grew. I shift between the faces of the people I once knew
Across the wasteland I heard their hopes of growth, but watched as they kept pouring fuel in sacred fire
And yet I have the itch to set it off
Chomping at the bit to set it off
So set it off
I've fallen into a cliché. Save my exit for another day
It serves me right
I'm stumbling blind with a crutch
All signs point in no direction; think I have a hunch
I've got a right to know who set this sacred fire
Descended; hallowed; reckless; shallow; at a glance it may seem that I'm at ease
I fell to sacred fire
I think I've hit a peak my heads now on a stake, and I have offered nothing in it's wake