This is what we get. We are to blame. The consequence we will always underestimate
We move in darkness. Our stolen conscience, overcome by instinct
And the sun will rise. This is our home now
But we don't understand how we did this to ourselves. This is where we sleep tonight
Wet grass, night sky. We move in darkness. Our stolen conscience, overcome by instinct
We hide in ruins of manmade arteries. Hunger alone remains relevant
Sudden is something we understand now. We sleep with warm throats
We wake with fearful hearts. We hear them breathing through the forest
We sleep with warm throats. We covet our punishment