As The Day Grows Dim, Hear Ya Sing A Golden Hymn
it's not enough just to say goodbye
it's not the same when you turn away
if you leave me now
well, if you leave me...
trespass slowly and creep into my heart
that place they call no man's land
it's desolate
broken shambles,
crumbling monuments built to those before you
statues built for those to come
and those that never will be
this place is a macabre museum
a pitiful exhibition of every trite feeling
every selfish desire
the great masterpieces hang elegantly
portraits of the past, mocking the present
the lowly sketches are nailed to the wall
with no consideration for presentation
they were never meant to be seen
there's only blue light here
filtered through falling ash
originating from an everlasting burning
an unrelenting urge
...this place will cease to exist
i'm done building monuments only to watch them crumble
no more sketches, no more half-thought ideas
take my hand and leave this place
it's not like it used to be
it's not the same when you turn away
if you leave me now
well, if you leave me...
trespass slowly and creep into my heart
that place they call no man's land
it's desolate
broken shambles,
crumbling monuments built to those before you
statues built for those to come
and those that never will be
this place is a macabre museum
a pitiful exhibition of every trite feeling
every selfish desire
the great masterpieces hang elegantly
portraits of the past, mocking the present
the lowly sketches are nailed to the wall
with no consideration for presentation
they were never meant to be seen
there's only blue light here
filtered through falling ash
originating from an everlasting burning
an unrelenting urge
...this place will cease to exist
i'm done building monuments only to watch them crumble
no more sketches, no more half-thought ideas
take my hand and leave this place
it's not like it used to be