Trace the Line - The Circle Ends Here

Served in a plate

Of dirt to the vultures

In a bed of nettles

I scream my conviction

Feed on me!

feed on me!

I no more seek for

That measly bit of light

There is no sky

There is no horizon

It’s raining mud!

I’m left splayed on dust

In shambles

Left here wrapped in mold

And now i know

What your voice

Impressed in the distance, wanted to say

And now i know

The heads and tails of the end

And now i know

It all falls into oblivion

And now i know

The failure of the human concept

And now i know

That even when all seems to reiterate

The circle Ends Here