The Mark of Man

One With The Tides

Sunken chests cast stone anchors to the depths
As these volcanic lungs threaten to erupt
Swallowed whole, into the emptiness below
Taken with the torrents, we sink, lost and alone

Is it possible to take another breath
To starve the vultures trapped deep within our chests?
Struggling with the tides, take my hand, because I believe we
We are never alone

Fatalist instinct, the silt within the soul
Funereal gloom, overwhelming, black as coal
With concrete hearts, we hang at the precipice
Resigned to become one with the abyss
Take my hand, because I need to believe
We are never alone

Surface, redeem, inhale your dreams
Spew forth the blackest days and watch them dissipate
Rebirth of tragedy, to mark the day we won