Texty: Underneath The Gun. Forfeit Misfortunes. Shawshank Absolution.

My mind pushes past conscious thought
Thinking, feeling, knowing past
Tell me, tell what am I?
This gate is closing way too fast

They say routine is how you live
I?m convinced it?s how you die
Trapped in this hollow pensive
Gaining you the more you try

This cannot last. It will not last. [x3]

It cannot last!

Reach me oh Lord!
Draw me back, before I reach myself

Before this becomes my institution
Before this becomes my absolution

Reach me! Oh Lord! Draw me back!

Ohhhh

Routine is how you die
Trapped in this hollow pensive
Gaining you the more you try

This cannot last. It will not last. [x3]

This cannot last!

Can this be?
Pushing fact so fiercely
You are my restitution
The product of resolution

Oh Lord, you are absolution!