I walk alone, head down, in a pale grey scene;
Every step leads to atrophy.
This body made for conquest, instead a pawn on a stage so worthless.
I saw the future as endless reaches;
The skyline's promise has left me faced with:
Whose dreams are you k**ing? And whose pockets are you filling?
Are you where you said
You would be in the end?
I walk alone through the crowds of past failed kings.
Auditions were called for the hope-thirsting sheep.
What keeps this family of fighters from facing the war that they were bred for?
Whose dreams are you k**ing? And whose pockets are you filling?
Are you where you said
You would be in the end?
I once saw my deeds grow to greatness,
and now I'm lost in the folds and worthless.
Following the footsteps of heroes never led to the safe and grey roads.
Following the footsteps of heroes never led to the safe and grey roads.