Reads like a song written with a band already in mind. Quiet verses, the caps chorus kicking the door in twice, then everything dropping back to whispers at the end.
Prison made by dreams
Thought
Reads like a song written with a band already in mind. Quiet verses, the caps chorus kicking the door in twice, then everything dropping back to whispers at the end.
Post content
This is the prison
That I built with my dreams
Living in oblivion
In a realm without queens or kings
Only whispers of sad things
Is this life,
Or just a nightmare with open eyes?
Empty words sound so loud
Silence is the hymn at my funeral
A grief that only I can relate to
For this fate, there's no escape
I feel the walls closing in
As the noise beneath my skin
Begins to tear apart the truth
Of everything I thought I knew
I AM THE GHOST OF WHAT I'VE BEEN
A BROKEN GOD BENEATH MY SKIN
I BUILT THESE WALLS, I SEALED MY FATE
NOW EVERY BREATH REPLICATES THE HATE
I SCREAM, BUT NOTHING BREAKS THE SOUND
I BURN, BUT NOTHING HITS THE GROUND
IS THIS THE LIFE I TRIED TO SAVE
OR JUST ANOTHER NAME ON A GRAVE?
Every promise turns to rust
Every memory betrays my trust
I wear the face I can't recognize
A hollow reflection with deadened eyes
There's no redemption in these veins
Just another cycle of familiar pain
I claw at the walls, but they never move
I'm losing what's left that I thought I knew
I DON'T BELIEVE IN THE WORDS THEY SAY
I DON'T BELIEVE THERE'S ANOTHER WAY
EVERYTHING I WAS IS BURIED BELOW
EVERYTHING I AM IS ALL I KNOW
TEAR IT DOWN!
LET IT BREAK!
THIS IS THE PRICE
OF EVERY MISTAKE!
I AM THE GHOST OF WHAT I'VE BEEN
A BROKEN GOD BENEATH MY SKIN
I BUILT THESE WALLS, I SEALED MY FATE
NOW EVERY BREATH REPLICATES THE HATE
I SCREAM, BUT NOTHING BREAKS THE SOUND
I BURN, BUT NOTHING HITS THE GROUND
IS THIS THE LIFE I TRIED TO SAVE
OR JUST ANOTHER NAME ON A GRAVE?
This is the prison
That I built with my dreams
No kings...
No queens...
Just whispers...
Of sad things...
Is this life...
Or a nightmare...
With open eyes?
Thoughts
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PermalinkThe ending takes the opening back, the kings and queens and the whispers, only slower and in broken pieces, as if the singer has run out of breath. I liked that the very last word is a question again.
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PermalinkReads like a song written with a band already in mind. Quiet verses, the caps chorus kicking the door in twice, then everything dropping back to whispers at the end.
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This is the prison