The architecture of melancholy
The secret society
From the primal heartbeat
Until the last shovel of dirt
All those moments will be lost in time
Like dust in the wind
Until the last shovel of dirt
All those moments will be lost in time
Like dust in the wind
Tears of lament upon the ossuary
Ivory towers shrines of misery
A sanctuary
And there lies the religious and emotional elements
Inherent in these monstrosities
And I gaze at the skyline slowly turning red
As I watch the sun die in solitude
The future is here
Concrete
But will disappear
Before our very eyes
Fragile structures
Crumbling
Collapsing new buildings
Houses made of lies
And there lies the religious and emotional elements
Inherent in these monstrosities
And I gaze at the skyline slowly turning red
As I watch the sun die in solitude
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