Pastime Lyrics

Count the animals until they're culled

Until the skin turns black

And rain will surely fall

How the hell are we to get through this

On a day like this

Flock of ravens deep inside my skull

Won't begin to change my mind or my soul

Who the hell are we to get through this

In a world like this

I'll watch the sky with you as the clouds turn into ash

Until our blood forgets to keep our spines alive

And it's a bitter life to come this close to death

But it's the aftermath of the choices of our souls

And it'd be nice to know the things you think of me

Every molecule that hates the past three days

Cause in the end of times, all we have is our own flesh

Cause in the end of times, all we have is our own flesh