Voices From The Fuselage feat. John Mitchell a principle god

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we're running out of time,
and we're wasting our days.
this hand could last forever,
but i will not commence with my play.
it causes such pain.
just follow the blood trail.
we're monsters on the inside,
the proof is in the good deeds we've failed.
maybe the world won't crumble
and maybe we will not wain
but i won't hold my breath
i won't hold my breath.
a principle god is yet to reign (reign).
maybe the skies will cease to fall down.
or maybe there's a haven elsewhere.
but i won't hold my breath.
i won't hold my breath.
our principle god is not there (there).
please forgive thee.
learn from history.
no good can come from this...
an outcome i cannot prevent.
falling fast into my deathbed.
bodies of wrongs we can't amend.
a hoard of sins we can't repent.
can't disbelieve what i clearly see.
project the future before me.
i begin to question everything .
you brought us all to life.
why give us the chance to fly,
if you resort to clipping off our wings?
when you think of all we've lost,
and how little we've gained.
regardless of the downfall
at least i've found a friend in this pain.
you're all that remains
my one familiar face.
i'll take your hand once more
if you promise me a journey through time and space

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