Patterns

from by Faith In Ruin

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lyrics

Heels take me far away from here
Let heavy hands take the wheel
I rode into town on a Sunday
on a gift horse with a mouth full of cavities

My true love was stricken dead
by the man of peace that the cavalry worship
When will we learn only pussies hold tongues?

We count our blessings on broken fingers
and march to the seraphim's song
When will we learn only dead men can claim to be historians?

Baptized in blood, the cross
your fodder for warships or drift wood for drowning mind

You are not the flood
you are the ocean
You are not the blood
you are the tyrant
You postulate a necessity for violent retribution
You know nothing of love

You are not the flood
you are the ocean
You are not the blood
you are the tyrant
The beast of hell walks among us
in the clothes of a common man
and he's been clawing at old wounds just to feel something

You'd suffocate us all just to breathe again
You've been tripping on verbs and contingencies
laced with the fear and the reification of fallacy

And so be it
the figure you kneel before now
is nothing but pride and a promise of vacancy
Our hands are far from clean
so what manic would waste a dream on reality?

With blood shot eyes
we've been viewing this in black and white
oblivious to shades of grey
The end is near and we've but tasted our conquest

You are not the flood
you are the ocean
You are not the blood
you are the tyrant

credits

from Anathema, released June 1, 2016

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Faith In Ruin Atlanta, Georgia

Our EP 'Anathema' is currently streaming on Youtube/Spotify and available for download on iTunes!

Tour dates can be kept track here: bandsintown.com/faithinruin

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