Fit For An Autopsy The Travelers
I saw the sun rise for the the last time,
I watched it leave the Earth and leave us all behind.
All the poor children
Will ever know
The strength of their innocence,
How quickly it goes.
God's special little creatures,
Could they have saved us from our poorly plotted arrogance?
Now they inherit the land,
The blackest of all plagues.
No one will visit their graves,
Not even dirt can be saved.
Is it so foolish to think
That we don't all sink to the same place?
And to the travelers I ask:
"Will you show me hell?
Have you met the devil?
I want to meet him, too.
I want to ask him about God,
Why he's abandoned you.
Why he's left me alone
With nothing left to love.
Why he's taken the world from us,
While he hides above.
And travelers say:
"Son, are you so blind you cannot see?
What little from the world can you offer me?
What's even left to take?
What kind of argument can you make?
What are you really trying to save?
Because all I see is a world in decay.
I wish the cold would break,
But the winds keep coming.
To draw back the light,
The dead weep for the world tonight."
And I see him now,
As the sun sets for the last time;
A reflection of my broken self
Burning the lake of fire.
We all carry our demons,
And we make this world our Hell.
This world is our Hell.
The dead weep for the world tonight.
