Pseudoubt - Sad Sad Story Cliché lyrics

[Verse 1: Artifex] Never write a song in the key of my alarm Never have a charm Carving a shape for the greater good Wait, take two Paying dues in the moment Must stay true 'til its broken I've choked on worse Better know by last name first Better yet by a path un-searched Yes that hurts but its worth it A reflection, sedimented And left uncertain The current drives We lose lives to fit it An eye for an eye leaves the whole world sitting in their civic duty chairs Do we truly care for the battle of the wits Or what is fitting best in the long run Betting on the lesser of the evils These metaphors leave holes to be equal I look to the steeple as it topples to the ground Where is your god now Where is your god now [Hook] And beneath floor boards We cry out for more to no answer A torn necromancer left mourning The epitome of lonesome Wait until you grow some and then begin to teeter on the fulcrum And beneath hard shells We cry out for help to no avail Like a torn sail billows and convulses Sensing every beat Every pulse As we count sheep just to make the bleating less indulgent [Verse 2: Artifex] Better shape up son Learn to tie your laces Trying hard to wake because I'm dreaming of a place I've never seen before Please ignore the stream of consciousness Find a fitting monolith Slip into a deeper sleep Buried down too deep to be returning unscathed I've entered in the maze past the point of empty promises Time allotted next nothing Pray to make it into something More than I can bare More than I could care to illustrate Still the same fairy tale Hammer nail pounded to the soil It's a royal marathon upon a very wary trail Retrace my steps To the place I left so many years ago Fear that I surpa**ed the marker Harken back to ignorance Contained inside a picket fence Only lacking hard defense Escalate Maybe at later point in life With a knack for thinking twice I'll have executed fantasies Without only imagining [Bridge] And beneath floor boards We cry out for more We cry out for more And we cry out And beneath hard shells We cry out for help We cry out for help And we cry out And beneath floor boards We cry out for more We cry out for more And we cry out And beneath hard shells We cry out for help We cry out for help And we cry out [Hook] And beneath floor boards We cry out for more to no answer A torn necromancer left mourning The epitome of lonesome Wait until you grow some and then begin to teeter on the fulcrum And beneath hard shells We cry out for help to no avail Like a torn sail billows and convulses Sensing every beat Every pulse As we count sheep just to make the bleating less indulgent It's a sad sad story cliché... Sad sad story cliché...