The End of the Past
Dance to the winds of desolation
And create turbulence
In the pathways of the rulers
Don’t be afraid to break their reign
They dig graves for everyone
Of ashes burnt from conviction
Don’t you ever believe in a memory
The past is made to torture
Its creation praised too often
But that’s why the rulers rule
To break down our sweet minds
Sleeping in our beds
Their lies a deck of cards
Or chess pieces turned cold
Predators to the future
Don’t you ever repeat their image
The bridge will be snapped
And emotion will pour outward
Don’t be afraid to break their reign
They bury gold under cold headstones
The end of the past will come