The Foreshadowing

Cold Waste

The Foreshadowing


Cold in my land 
Whate'er the time I've been 
Running too fast or walking too slow 
For a long time. 

Tomorrow I will hate 
and celebrate my greed 
Wandering the Waste 
And tasting my heart 
Smells like sour and filth. 

Tears don't belong to me 
And no one else, 
I'm running to my hell 
'Cause none of us can make a stand. 

Running to my hell... 

Cold rain, rush me into my hell, 
All alone when light's off. 
We are born to procreate 
And subjugate. 

Tears don't belong to me 
And no one else, 
I'm running to my hell 
'Cause none of us can make a stand. 

Running to my hell... 

Cold Waste of a bloody 
Taste we're alone 
And ready to fall. 
Frontiers without volunteers. 
Who asked for a penny of love? 
Skyscrapers with a hellish view from above. 
We're ready to fall. 
Cold Soul, if you're feeling old you can call 
When you can't go on...