Even though I’m on fire,
My veins are so cold.
A desolate wreck of a being,
Beaten down by the theories of society.
I martyred myself for something of no worth,
‘Cause that’s what they preach to me:
Power.
And I am so sick of never seeing...
That eternal light that seems to shine right past me every time I turn my motherfucking head.

Follow me now,
Fall with me proud,
As I grow.

Cold.
Could you help me find the right path to sanity;
Heal this hurt deep in me?
Without your touch,
It’s like I’m crumbling.

A population’s mind manifests a social construction of reality:
Of what’s "supposed" to be.
Perhaps that’s why there’s so much agony in the world.
‘Cause a few actually see...
That this theory is flawed,
And become so appalled.
We crawl in the dark to hide from the shards of reality...
That's slicing our face.

Cold.
Even though I’m on fire my veins are so cold.
And can you take me someplace higher?

Doomed to a florescent,
Rather than a natural.
All because the population deemed it so;
Deemed to be a beggar rather than a chooser,
All because the population has already chose.
Well I separate,
Cast off my shackles.
Collar I throw down.
I will care no more.
I will not be lead,
Though may lead me astray.
Least it’ll be by me;
It’ll be my doing.
I am the man on the dying throne;
The man destined to be so cold.

So...
Cold.
I'm so cold.
I am perplexity of a parody of a paradox that I can’t not name.
I’m so sick of this game;
This gray.
Help me to be okay.
And really it all comes down to tomorrow...
Really, it all comes down to if I’ll ever find her. To find her.
I'm so sick of being alone;
Of feeling like stone;
Of being so cold.


Lyrics submitted by xAs_She_CRIESx

Without (Your Touch) song meanings
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