Texty: Phoenix Mourning. When Excuses Become Antiques. Across Twenty-Six Winters.
As i end this war.
like many times before.
i burned these words and without a reason.
spit out ashes your fasting on happiness.
this subtle remorse, i claimed treason of course.
the mirrors truth is my reflection.
this subtle excuse, no one to blame but you.
secrets that you cherish you will take to the grave.
it always kills me to see you endure the pain.
and i calculate the same mistakes always being made.
as i shattered this glass that reflects my face.
i died tonight.
(as i end this war)
and never felt so alive.
(like many times before)
i tryed to explain to you all of my callous ways.
but i can no longer justify that my past was to blame.
as methodically as the seasons will always change.
i would tear off my facade and replace it with a new face.
and each time a new scar would surface for me to remember.
that it's been twenty six winters and i still have not surrendered.
but if i died tonight my letter would read.
dear you.
my last breath was in vain.
sincerely,
me.
across twenty six winters.
i died that december night and i still can't remember.
(across december)
your apathy does not go unnoticed.
and im sorry but they all see through you.
finally face to face.
and finally this ends today.
(your apathy does not ever seem noticed)
today i will end this war like many times before.
before the sun sets . . .
across twenty six winters.
i died that december night and i still can't remember.
(across december)
finally face to face.
(and im sorry)
and finally this ends today.
(but they can see through you)
(Thanks to Robert for these lyrics)
When Excuses Become Antiqu