Ceschi - End Of Skies lyrics

(Icon the Mic King) How do you run from the sky when it falls on you? How do you run from the sky when it falls on you? How do you run from the sky when it falls on you? How do you run from the sky? I thought the last days was a catch phrase Someone made it to the finish line in the rat race That may collapse a wall in this gla** maze Its artistry is largely seen as pa**é Really it's right as rain on this token hero Time is finished when sky's the limit...approaching zero Behold a pale trojan horse the form of a vaccine Silent weapon, quiet war of the world of the banshee And we touch the stars in a literal sense While our dystopia's crushed to a minuscule myth Woe is me throwing these stones - no religious defense See me at the crossroads still tryna sit on the fence (David Ramos) It's a self imposed ma**acre When the heavens turn to flames And the petroleum rain drops fuel the fires Fleeing on top of the mountains away from the waters Attempting to swallow Us alive Must survive Trust in CHRIST Or whatever exotic particle composition product of your imagination That you believe in Rely on something greater than yourself When yourself is helpless It's when the sycophants turn to JESUS Defeated fetuses Drowning in ocean crevices Sub-aquatic tumbled tunnels Turn to defective fallopian tubes It's the wrath of greed The act of Gods 2012 (Shoshin) When the Colossus comes, crashing through a sky on fire The Earth will quake and mark the end of the Prophet's run The burst and break of the surface will certainly service The birth of opaque, pestilent smoke to block the lungs We knew we'd perish in this future furnace After all the truest prophecies are told by those who mold the outcome A solid mix of dollar mints and talcum tinted tentacles Exalt the Chaplain of the ashen chasm! Our policy of never reevaluating our policies Will give rise to pandemic damages White lies and red d**h for the brandishing A revolution of stillness; the marching of the mannequins A twisted vision that mimics movements of crippled pigeons Folding $20's till trees imitate smoke from bombarded buildings In a fallout shelter future, extinction will scream from silos The blood of man will run, red will flood the land So say your prayers ridden with false hopes Because the plague prevails and chokes with a grip that grabs ghosts Yes! Hark the herald Angel of d**h! The peril will mangle and spread Until "Life" is just a new name for the dead (Ceschi) No clouds.. It wasn't white... There were no angels flying around No fire.. It wasn't red... There was no anti-christ nor christ And the night did not ignite Into a fiery pit of dogfights and demonic delight Instead it was quite like a slight ray of light Flashing in seconds Barely attainable by sight In the end human life felt so damn trife As if there was never a plight or a war A knife or a sword Delight or abhor No glory No delusions of grandeur No more How do you run from the sky when there's none left How do you run from the sky when it swallows you How do you run from the sky when you're stuck on a treadmill floating In thin air that leads to nowhere