This is the tale that never ends, so from the start you know there'll be no happy end The story of a vagabond that once had faith in them, the dominant race. To redirect a world designed for disaster To redirect a world to apocalypsis Perseverant he walked the city in search for one last sacred task The task that refers to survival but also slaughter and violence, kill to be killed, one step to abyss He made it twice, he choose not to fight He made it twice, the ones that made him He made it twice, what he most hated He made it twice, fatuous rioter Wine was a, wine was a, wine was a sedative Wine was a, wine was a, wine was a sedative again Wine killed regrets, a sedative again, So lies made not remorse arise again and endlessly He challenged himself to exit the cliffs He stoped looking for references and found out the way to redemtion Marked exes in his front and covered them with pride and thirst for blood To redirect a world designed for disaster To redirect a world to apocalypsis Somehow shadows made him rise again Somehow obliged him to respond From his acts He stoped looking for references and found out the way to redemtion Marked exes in his front and covered them with pride and thirst for blood
