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Description
I put my neck on the block
And swore to the death,
Swore on my grave
That I'd fight 'til the end.

Said I'd
Fight 'til the end.

Told myself that I'd be the one
With the stars pinned on.
'Cause I fought, tooth and nail.
And never gave up, never gave in.
They'll put it on my tombstone,
I said, fist towards the sky,
Put it on my grave in giant letters.
In Declamation,
For everyone to say.

…

Did I really think
That it'd be that easy?
Never occurred to me that
There was a reason
Lotus leaves have spots,
That is to say,
And you told me so.

Perfection nonexistent.

FLASH
BANG
BABOOM

Firecrackers fly across the sky,
In Declaration of ideals of morals
In fire and in death.

An ill omen for sure,
Good thing I'm not superstitious,
But devoutly practical instead.

The machine keeps moving
On and on.
The same, repetitive motions.
Again, again.
The same I think I cans over and over
And over and over and over and over and
over and over and over and over and --

Up in flames, lit up by those
Falling stars.
Make a wish, make a wish.

The machine keeps moving
And Everything is screaming
STOP, NO MORE!

Shoulda never put my neck on the block
And swore to the death.
'Cause those stars they're pinning
Are burning my soul.

I'd pray for salvation,
But I'm devoutly practical.
And It's a matter of pride,
Not fact,
That's burning me up.

It'll be the death of me,
So be it.

When I die, and I will--
No warrior is unsung, unburied--
Make sure they write it
In stone.
So people remember.

Description
I put my neck on the block
And swore to the death,
Swore on my grave
That I'd fight 'til the end.

Said I'd
Fight 'til the end.

Told myself that I'd be the one
With the stars pinned on.
'Cause I fought, tooth and nail.
And never gave up, never gave in.
They'll put it on my tombstone,
I said, fist towards the sky,
Put it on my grave in giant letters.
In Declamation,
For everyone to say.

…

Did I really think
That it'd be that easy?
Never occurred to me that
There was a reason
Lotus leaves have spots,
That is to say,
And you told me so.

Perfection nonexistent.

FLASH
BANG
BABOOM

Firecrackers fly across the sky,
In Declaration of ideals of morals
In fire and in death.

An ill omen for sure,
Good thing I'm not superstitious,
But devoutly practical instead.

The machine keeps moving
On and on.
The same, repetitive motions.
Again, again.
The same I think I cans over and over
And over and over and over and over and
over and over and over and over and --

Up in flames, lit up by those
Falling stars.
Make a wish, make a wish.

The machine keeps moving
And Everything is screaming
STOP, NO MORE!

Shoulda never put my neck on the block
And swore to the death.
'Cause those stars they're pinning
Are burning my soul.

I'd pray for salvation,
But I'm devoutly practical.
And It's a matter of pride,
Not fact,
That's burning me up.

It'll be the death of me,
So be it.

When I die, and I will--
No warrior is unsung, unburied--
Make sure they write it
In stone.
So people remember.