Faithful

Finally, there was nothing inside

All turnt out

Failed

And pulled down

You're well trained

Your eyes of stone

We can't keep clean

It's the mess we wrote

Give me mist to flow into

As gold melts

Her frame

Sinking

You're well-trained

Your eyes of stone

Mirror pane

High, higher

Who's that man?

Your hand

Letting go, oh

I let it feel like water

Pain

Man

Little god