Ahab

Time's Like Molten Lead

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When ignorance is bliss
Our voices nothing but a sore hiss
We yearn for redemtion, for an end

Yet we keep heading on
While time`s expanding, running slow
Like streams of molten lead
In this moments of need
Our memories will soon be gone

There`ll be no end
There`ll be no end

No end
No end

No end
No end

Father, is this the end?