When the [bad word] is lost and gone
the roots of our growing disharmony
at the barricades of the heart
The ever flowing tears of the secluded
We [bad word] what we conceived [bad word] of a dying legacy
Nothing else was as sweet
You used to lift me up
I remember that ethereal serenity
an Illusive sense of security
In times of disbelief to deteriorate
Beyond this killing loneliness
lying at the gates of indecision
The choose has been made