Everlasting Glance (Los inquietos, los condenados)
. ~ > Everlasting
.. ~ > Glance
. ~ > (Los inquietos, los condenados)
Is it leniency when the victim wants it just as much as the killer?Is it rape when the accusation brought forth is from a sinner?
Do morals exist when the balancing act of society tips and breaks?
What do we call our lives?
Is that for us to say?
Not you, not I.
Not you, not I.
Just history.
We're history.
Things are bigger than us.
We are of so much consequence and so little responsibility.
The nameless in the books of the damned and evil.
But so are we, and so we must admit defeat.
If in life we are dead than we live in history.
We breath the life of millions.
Every action, every thought.
Under scrutiny.
Every ideal unremarkable, no virgin ever clean.
The act of life and living condemnation for a nation's misery.
Things are bigger than us.
We are of so much consequence and so little responsibility.
The nameless in the books of the damned and evil.
But so are we, and so we must admit defeat.
If in life we are dead than we live in history.
We breath the life of millions.
Every action, every thought.
Under scrutiny.
Every ideal unremarkable, no virgin ever clean.
The act of life and living condemnation for a nation's misery.
If all shall collapse and fall, shall we?
Will you tumble down from among your perch and search along the ground?
Will the isotopes of change rain down from every age?
Will we one day wake up in a world where's nothing is new, or strange?
Where open sewers pronounce the gusts of wind that swirl over the surface.
If the end is in motion we move beneath it's feet.
And the souls departed silent cries walking Earthless.
Forced to see history, forced to see it's dictums.
Forced to see the world robbed of all it's victims.
Forced to see the bitter end of life, indeed the world.
The fall of man, the shrinking of the seas, the greying of the clouds and decaying of the hilltops.
The familiar world in disrepair.
And we will all be there, watching silent.
And when all time is up we will roam through space, legless but still.
Motionless, deadened and numb to all thrill.
No fear, no dramatizations of fate to graze upon.
Just an empty vacuum with nothing left to gaze upon.
Just silence, the soundless waiting to begin.
Waiting...
Will you tumble down from among your perch and search along the ground?
Will the isotopes of change rain down from every age?
Will we one day wake up in a world where's nothing is new, or strange?
Where open sewers pronounce the gusts of wind that swirl over the surface.
If the end is in motion we move beneath it's feet.
And the souls departed silent cries walking Earthless.
Forced to see history, forced to see it's dictums.
Forced to see the world robbed of all it's victims.
Forced to see the bitter end of life, indeed the world.
The fall of man, the shrinking of the seas, the greying of the clouds and decaying of the hilltops.
The familiar world in disrepair.
And we will all be there, watching silent.
And when all time is up we will roam through space, legless but still.
Motionless, deadened and numb to all thrill.
No fear, no dramatizations of fate to graze upon.
Just an empty vacuum with nothing left to gaze upon.
Just silence, the soundless waiting to begin.
Waiting...
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