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These, The Effects Of Failure

by Sagoh Twentyfourseven

on ...Then I Corrupt Youth (2001)

You stand empty in solitaire,
suddenly now you're out on your own.
You feel so weary;
your travels seem to be all alone.
This jaunt has left you helpless
besetting wherever you may roam.

You wallow in this mire of disillusion,
it's your hope not your mind you're losing.
This task seems endless,
but it's the aspiration that you're musing.

Will I see you here?
Will you still come around?
Will I see you here?
Will things still be the same?
You can't be sure of what you see;
you can't be sure of what you believe.
You can't be sure of what you see;
you can't be sure of what you believe.

Feeling tired,
weak with death of passion's flame,
you think that life is not a destination
and not a simple game.

Will I see you here?
Will you still come around?
Will I see you here?
Will things still be the same?

You wallow in this mire of disillusion,
it's your hope not your mind you're losing.
This task seems endless,
but it's the aspiration that you're musing.

I'm sorry if I hurt you,
please don't walk away,
if bitterness were a master,
then you seem bound in chains.
It's hard to free the prisoners
when you desire to be enslaved.

Please don't walk away,
grab my hand,
please don't walk away,
you can still come around,
please don't walk away,
grab my hand,
please don't walk away,
things can be the same.