This is the tale that never ends, so from the start you know there'll be no happy end
The story of a vagabond that once had faith in them, the dominant race.
To redirect a world designed for disaster
To redirect a world to apocalypsis
Perseverant he walked the city in search for one last sacred task
The task that refers to survival but also slaughter and violence, kill to be killed, one step to abyss
He made it twice, he choose not to fight
He made it twice, the ones that made him
He made it twice, what he most hated
He made it twice, fatuous rioter
Wine was a, wine was a, wine was a sedative
Wine was a, wine was a, wine was a sedative again
Wine killed regrets, a sedative again, so lies made not remorse arise again and endlessly he challenged himself to exit the cliffs
He stoped looking for references and found out the way to redemtion
Marked exes in his front and covered them with pride and thirst for blood
To redirect a world designed for disaster
To redirect a world to apocalypsis
Somehow shadows made him rise again
Somehow obliged him to respond
From his acts
He stoped looking for references and found out the way to redemtion
Marked exes in his front and covered them with pride and thirst for blood