Crimson

It's as if I've fallen with the fall

Like leaves from trees, standing short and tall

My lungs are frozen from the winter air

A stale cold and respiratory flare

Crimson scatters near the roots of the last soldier from the summer

It's as if the battle happened here and the bodies were buried under

A tectonic drift and polar shift would ensure our camouflage

It would be as if we never happened, and this place was a mirage

We constantly collide with the troposphere

We cut straight through like roman spear

Displacing oxygen like a paid assassin. Promised to forget because it never happened

It's as if I've fallen with the fall

Like leaves from trees, standing short and tall.

Crimson scatters near the roots of the last soldier from the summer

It's as if the battle happened here and the bodies were buried under

Stimulating consequences rest on my conscience

This addiction to the things we do is neither conventional or acknowledged

An echo of existence. Subsist in our commencement

Limitations have escaped us, contrary to accepted thesis

A tectonic drift and polar shift would ensure our camouflage

It would be as if we never happened, and this place was a mirage

We constantly collide with the troposphere

We cut straight through like roman spear

Displacing oxygen like a paid assassin

Promised to forget because it never happened

Crimson scatters near the roots of the last soldier from the summer

It's as if the battle happened here and the bodies were buried under

An echo of existence. Subsist in our commencement

Limitations have escaped us, contrary to accepted thesis

An echo of existence. Limitations have escaped us

An echo of existence