Postfulgurate by My Hands To War Lyrics
You persist, even in death
In an instant you appear as if you were never gone
Paying homage in energy shrines
With no mask to save you from the light
Lost in the prime of life
Roots pointed towards the sky
Roots pointed towards the sky
A bright, violet flash from the air
Leaves the room suspended in their chairs
“What happens next? Something has to resolve.”
But what if it never does?
Stays tense just because the drama of life
Is happily married to cutting the cord?
Exhausted fact, abolished
A history in the blink of an eye
Distorted past, acknowledged
The mystery in continuous lights
(A spark is a wonder...)
Crash, crash
Crash to the ground
Last, last
Last to the sound
What archaic mathematics we cling to as proof
As far as my eyes can tell, you were here and now you’re not
If the door was closed, it has opened on its own
A first class ticket to Hell and back?
Then save me a seat on the train
Dialogue, disguised as an interview
What could this audience say?
“Take it back”?
“Please don’t go”?
“You never gave us closure”?
“You never let us know”?
What an absolute farce
Salvation in retina
I’ve beholden a glorious sight:
What fell down before us was you, bathed in calamitous light
Bathed in calamitous light
Bathed in calamitous light
It was always you
What becomes of our snakeskin shedding cycle now
When you persist even in death?
In an instant you appear as if you were never gone
Paying homage in energy shrines
With no mask to save you from the light
Lost in the prime of life
Roots pointed towards the sky
Roots pointed towards the sky
A bright, violet flash from the air
Leaves the room suspended in their chairs
“What happens next? Something has to resolve.”
But what if it never does?
Stays tense just because the drama of life
Is happily married to cutting the cord?
Exhausted fact, abolished
A history in the blink of an eye
Distorted past, acknowledged
The mystery in continuous lights
(A spark is a wonder...)
Crash, crash
Crash to the ground
Last, last
Last to the sound
What archaic mathematics we cling to as proof
As far as my eyes can tell, you were here and now you’re not
If the door was closed, it has opened on its own
A first class ticket to Hell and back?
Then save me a seat on the train
Dialogue, disguised as an interview
What could this audience say?
“Take it back”?
“Please don’t go”?
“You never gave us closure”?
“You never let us know”?
What an absolute farce
Salvation in retina
I’ve beholden a glorious sight:
What fell down before us was you, bathed in calamitous light
Bathed in calamitous light
Bathed in calamitous light
It was always you
What becomes of our snakeskin shedding cycle now
When you persist even in death?