I heard you say we’re all going back into the dusk where we came, carrying a cross on our backs, and everything that burdened each step, all falls away when you reach that holy land.

But if it comes down on that day to a judgment on the fate you made with all your checks and x’s, your shades of gray, well, I don’t want anything to do with that

And you still say that its your fear of God that binds you in your bubble to watch the world go on
But you act just like nothings wrong and swear your gonna cure every curse in this world gone to rot
From your hermit cove your anticlimactic cell, where you're always waiting on a fall to send you back down to your hell, Maybe then were made to hate ourselves to grow into something we’re not, something were not.