Eris/Overview

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Revision as of 23:42, 17 March 2017 by imported>Ambrosine
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Overview

Snowbird - Porcelain
There's a place behind a tiny door
Where there are vines and even roses
I collect the thorns so you can feel again
And press them in your skin
And when we start to breath again rolling out
Spiralling down on this planet
The road's just swirling blue
Now you feel it like I do, like I do
Now you feel it like I do, like I do
I swear you stand so still your hands
And fingers made of porcelain and holding me
Frozen


In Keeping Secerts of Silent Earth 3-Coheed and Cambria
A broad incision sits across the evening
The victim to our fathers lost war
The restless children sit and mourn the graves
Of those they've never seen before
Will they be buried here among the dead?
In the silent secret


The pioneers
In dealing with it they march for dawn, of Will and worthy
The truth be told the child was born
Man your own jackhammer
Man your battle stations
We'll have you dead pretty soon
And now
Sincerely written from my brother's blood machine
Man your battle stations
We'll have you home pretty soon
And now


Awake through motion with curiosity to curtain your first move
Over arms length they'll break protocol
Jealous envy for the youngest one
To be the hero is all I'll ask
Can I be buried here among the dead?
With room to honor me here in the end
You'll be better off too soon
You'll be better off when you get home
....


For you,
I'd do anything just to make you happy, hear you tell me that you’re proud of me
For them,
I'll kill anything cut the throats of babies for them break their hearts for they were them
Waiting for you to say: I love you too


The navigator
The pilot
Her favorite
The one they call the vision that bears the gift
The one they call the vision that bears the gift



Will,
Do the children really understand the things you did to them?
And why oh why…
Should they conjure up the will for you my love I would kill him
we're coming home pretty soon
Coming home


In the seventh turning hour
Will the victims shadow fall?
Should the irony grow hungry?
With the victory and all they sought for
We were one among the fence
One among the fence



We're coming home



Man your own jackhammer
Man your battle stations
We'll have you dead pretty soon
And now
Sincerely written from my brother's blood machine
Man your battle stations
We'll have you home pretty soon
Tonight