Mourning کے بول

As we continue to drive on to pile on and pile on there are miles of wasteland behind us and we are going around one day its going to catch up a machine with no breaks on green grass will be long gone a few angry screams can't be heard, can't hear a word through the noise louder and louder and luder as the grass no longer makes it through we keep piling on iron teeth sink into soil and the clouds are now black smoke are you content with the world? as you choke some have been crying for centuries while others collected the salt some just shrug their sholders and pave the earth with asphalt the end of this road is soon to come no saviour or a chosen one all leaves are turning brown but this is not autumn, this is fall when you family is burning when your world is turning don't look at me I told you so