The Becoming Lyrics

I break my vows
And shed my skin with no regrets
No farewell
And no psalm for the dead

Don't exorcise my demons
I'll keep them by my side
I might be beautifully wrong
Or terribly right

Netherwards
Away from the paradigm long lost
We go
Artist souls with butchers' hands

No farewell
And no psalm for the dead

Netherwards
Away from the paradigm long lost
We go
Artist souls with butchers' hands

We go
Watching our heroes fall

The universal foundations tremble
The sequence falls apart
As no great narrative
Was ever right

The sequence falls apart
As no great narrative
Was ever right

Faced with complete failure
And frigid loneliness
When no one else is there
Into the mirrors of ours we stare
World without end

Seeking no redemption in the furthest beyond
Finding no comfort in all crosses of the world

The universal foundations tremble
The sequence falls apart
As no great narrative
Was ever right

Watching all heroes fall
Left all alone
We become
What we began

When everything around is shattered
Lost in endless entropy
We sail the raging sea
Of thought