Texty: Mudvayne. The End Of All Things To Come. Key to Nothing.

No more doors
No more locks
No more windows
No more box

No more, no less
No more nothing less
No more six foot digs
No more hypocrites

No more emptiness
No more consequence
No more puppet strings
No more disease

No more growing up
No more happiness
No more lying down
No more complacence

I have
I hold the key to nothing
It's a small killing
Murder, murder's in the hands
Of motion, as it seems to be

No more nothing
No more anything
No more you
No more me

No more posturing victories
No more nations to defeat
No more speaking truth
No more deceit

No more holding down
No more pushing me
No more new world order
No more anarchy

I have
I hold the key to nothing
It's a small killing
Murder, murder's in the hands
Of motion, as it seems to be

I'm washing my hands of the whole thing
I'm washing my hands of the whole thing
I'm washing my hands of the whole thing
Of the whole thing
I want no more nothing
I want no more nothing
I want no more nothing
I want no more nothing

I have
I hold the key to nothing
It's a small killing
Murder, murder's in the hands
Of motion, as it seems to be

I'm washing my hands of everything
Of everything we are