Text1.ru Young Medicine - Ufo Party

Bret Michael LiberJosh HurstMichael McEvoyWaiting for that final day I get the unmarked grave
So here's my last reward for years of suffering
Too blind to tell
I sank this fatal knife in myself
Buried alive with my thoughts long ago
Suburban mausoleum I once called home
No doors and no windows allowed
Surviving on whispers and rumors for now
See all these places that I used to know
Withered and crumbling memories made of stone
What's left but the deafening sound
Of emptiness filling the air all around
The stars I used to believe in
Nothing but satеllites, uninspiring machines
Decеived
Waiting for that final day I get the unmarked grave
So here's my last reward for years of suffering
Too blind to tell
I sank this fatal knife in myself
Poorly written poetry, a worthless eulogy
With zero volunteers to carry me away
Too blind to tell
I sank this fatal knife in myself
Always a sucker for heart wrenching hope
But somehow terrified that I'll die alone
My fault not wanting to be found
Hide and seek champion, three decades down
Lack of attention, I'm starved to the bone
A self-inflicted kind of tragic syndrome
Autopsy shows nothing resounds
In my head the echoes have all faded out
The stars I used to believe in
Nothing but satellites, uninspiring machines
Deceived
Waiting for that final day I get the unmarked grave
So here's my last reward for years of suffering
Too blind to tell
I sank this fatal knife in myself
Poorly written poetry, a worthless eulogy
With zero volunteers to carry me away
Too blind to tell
I sank this fatal knife in myself
I was always too blind to tell
I sank this fatal knife in myself