كلمات Pulse

With a rhyme in a laugh we shrug it off With a word in a phrase we mourn the loss Please save us all from the preaching Inhale the blasphemy, behold what you can't see We're pouring our souls out and bleeding Baptized in lies You're gonna need all of our prayers And the whole damn congregation to save you Toward your demise You're gonna need all of our prayers And the whole damn congregation to save your soul That all who wish to rise may rise again To touch the stars and fly upon the wind For those who know the most tragic of ends Is not to die, but never to have lived When you were young Oh, how the Sun shone And beneath your feet, the greenest of grass would grow Your time has come See the grass from below And the procession of all who've loved letting go Dies Irae dies illa Solvet saeclum in favilla