The Black Projector - HELL MILITIA

I wish I returned to the abortion of being when those dark hours were our glory,

we were bleeding as one.

Before the fall, at the apogee, the turn that waste my soul.

We all can see but fear to face reality, this mask of sobriety can’t hide the

bitter rust.

Those hours are killing me.

Behind my back the grim acid eye follows my steps.

The nameless conspirators unveil the black projector.

The devil deals with all of us, grinning at our fail.

There’s never a way back, but thousands bitter days.

Those hours are killing me.

No…

We can’t escape this fucking spiral.

No.

We’re cheating ourselves to forget.

No.

We can’t try anymore, we’re just as dead.

No.

We never get a chance, or maybe we forgot.