[ Featuring Sick ]
Great Migrations
All empires must fall
Obsolescence
Brings us to distant shores
And the wax
Dripping down the scroll
Seals
My fate
You've got my back
Against the wall
Firing squad
Nothing is wrong
Sweat and blood
I wish I could taste
Your grace now
Read me stories
Written by the dead
Allegories
Of promises not kept
Feed me lies
To keep my strength up
You've got my back
Against the wall
Firing squad
Nothing is wrong
Sweat and blood
I wish I could taste
Your grace now
You've got my back
Against the wall
Firing squad
Nothing is wrong
Sweat and blood
I wish I could taste
Your grace now
