Johnny Booth - Pueblo Smash

This is the death of expectation
I'll see the demise, of all your superstitions.
They shall bind us not.

I'll plant the seeds of our secession.
We will see this through. And when the morphine kicks in, I'm staring back at
you.
The deaf man hears the sound of his crater caving in.
The voices of an era falling victim,
We're the victims.

We'll sound the trumpets calling,
Kingdoms will crumble [x3]
Kingdoms will crumble in your hands

Fumbling right over my tongue, I'm red with envy
I'll gut myself until you
cannot look away. Can someone find the answers, to all impending questions?
We are the prisoners to all our own distractions.

Jared in- head vessels- cant handle- too much
My jarred in - head vessels - can't handle - too much more.

Rapid decay pulling flesh from bone, and dust storms you lonely cattle.
And beneath the surface there is, prosthetic hearts.
Every fragile voice can carry grand solutions.
I've bid farewell to, these carbon copies
I've bid farewell to deceit.
You will pay.

Glass ships can sink nations
Glass ships can sink nations
Glass ships can sink
Glass ships can sink nations