The Chorus 歌词

Outstretch your hands Receive redemption Your name does not change The music that plays Silenced in haste And a lone voice sounds ‘I am the truest self, I am the truest self I am the truest self, I am the truest self I am the truest self, I am the truest self I am the truest self, I am the truest self’ You can’t get rid of me Bowed head in slapping waves Green glimmers through salt sting Knowing nothing but the need not to breathe And what have you achieved? What does your death mean? Is your art improved? Will your sex be missed? Can you answer these Before you’re knocked back by the waves And the pain recedes And the ledge you cling onto narrows We accept our loss Cut off our hands Immortal invisible God only wise in light Accessible hid from our eyes Most blessed most glorious The ancient of days almighty victorious You knew what you were about when you created me No shock In unison We accept our loss Cut off our hands