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Just a fatal vision left to turn your blood to rust, and the lines grow ever thinner between things that I can trust.
And that path, forsaken, just like those before.

We kill with words we'd say, just because we're better off that way.
Maybe we should write it out in blood.
Blessed are these words just beyond my touch.

And when the innocence is gone, will out words forever change?
It seems my lines of resolutions always seem to come out framed.
And is it all for nothing?
Don't let me turn away.

We kill with words we'd say, just because we're better off that way.
Maybe we should write it out in blood.
Blessed are these words just beyond my touch.

And there's no laughter anymore -- no release from misery for one who's tried so hard and failed at every step.
I've bid on chances still beyond my touch and the further I release, I'm promising too much.
And when I die forgotten, just one fading breath.

We kill with words we'd say, just because we're better off that way.
Maybe we should write it out in blood.
Blessed are these words just beyond my touch.

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