I'll wade these stagnant waters for eternity,
Watching for your eager hands to slow for me.
Ah and there's never any traffic riding these highways,
The pavement burns due only to the sun's pale gaze.

Will it always be this way for me?
Walking on such abiotic fringes.
All of my patience hasn't paid for me.
But sooner, or later...

I roam through empty hallways and stale corridors,
Rusted are the pipelines from which life once poured.
And stairs leave off to ancient depths of still debris,
Mist licks at their severed ends and blackness proceeds.

Will it always be this way for me?
Walking on such abiotic fringes.
All of my patience hasn't paid for me.
But sooner, or later...

Little differentiates the night from the day.
The new sun becomes muted but continues to plague me.
My eyes stay fixed on the unhealing wounded sky,
It won't let me forget the grave reason why.

Will it always be this way for me?
Walking on such abiotic fringes.
All of my patience hasn't paid for me.
But sooner, or later...