(+) wash your hands
Eventually they'll come
Your name has been called
Out for aeons
To claim the blood
And salvage what remains
For once we've seen the fragile nature
Of things behind these windows
Where nothing lives
And nothing ends
And seen what drives the hopeless
In between their closing yellowed walls
The day has come
You are the fatalist
The day has come
You are the fatalist
You walk on soil that dreams of blood
How can we fight fatigue?
In pre-historic sorrow?
When all is preordained
The cycle never ends
What once had been an endless realm
Of possibility and dream
Now laid to waste and ruin
Laid to waste again
You wash your hands in blood
You squander time
We borrow from eternity
Is it another lame excuse?
The day has come
You are the fatalist
The day has come
You are the fatalist
You walk on soil that dreams of blood
You are the fatalist
If nothing changes
Then nothing ends
Your thoughts are broken
Your reasoning is flawed
The defense is just an act
And lies are all you've got
You are the fatalist
You are the fatalist
How easy we can see?
Defeat behind your argument
The fatalistic smile
The day has come
You are the fatalist
The day has come
You are the fatalist
You walk on soil that dreams of blood
The day has come
The day has come
You walk the ground that screams for murder