In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
This flesh holds me captive and in quest of liberation...
As the sheep flock in the dissonance, I tread in dissent.
To the piercing light that sears our hearts;
To the sickness that plagues our spirits...
I cannot revere in this blind acceptance and falter in my comprehension.
Forfeit my injured soul, this affliction I respire!
Heal this restless spirit — that bestowed naught.
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate — I consign!
Heal my heart, my weeping soul...
I consign this putrid flesh.
Nothing here, nobody there...
Erroneous illness shouting.
The outcry reviles this tattered soil...
Drowning the world in filth and distortion.
Forfeit my injured soul, this affliction I respire!
Heal this restless spirit — that bestowed naught.
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate — I consign!
Heal my heart, my weeping soul...
I consign this putrid flesh.
I’ll leave my conscience to die.
A barrenness of dreams and anticipation;
Life and hope shrivel into the void.
Heal my heart that approached the world, as I relegate — I consign!
Heal this heart, my weeping soul...
I consign this putrid flesh.
In this pantheon of sorrow,
We are everything, yet nothing!
And as long we’re breathing,
The burden devoid of conclusion!
Unaided I slither — ravaged, silent and alone.
I smolder in anxious strife; I decline these exhausted remnants of decay.
The world is coming to an end; a vast ocean of disease...
All hope is lost... or perhaps this is the cradle of salvation.
I must tranquil these turbulent waters.
No more expressions shall leave my trait...
No further words shall be spoken.
This illness they conceived broke my tired wings.
As the sheep flock in the dissonance, I tread in dissent.
To the piercing light that sears our hearts;
To the sickness that plagues our spirits...
I cannot revere in this blind acceptance and falter in my comprehension.
Forfeit my injured soul, this affliction I respire!
Heal this restless spirit — that bestowed naught.
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate — I consign!
Heal my heart, my weeping soul...
I consign this putrid flesh.
Nothing here, nobody there...
Erroneous illness shouting.
The outcry reviles this tattered soil...
Drowning the world in filth and distortion.
Forfeit my injured soul, this affliction I respire!
Heal this restless spirit — that bestowed naught.
Heal this heart that approached the world, as I relegate — I consign!
Heal my heart, my weeping soul...
I consign this putrid flesh.
I’ll leave my conscience to die.
A barrenness of dreams and anticipation;
Life and hope shrivel into the void.
Heal my heart that approached the world, as I relegate — I consign!
Heal this heart, my weeping soul...
I consign this putrid flesh.
In this pantheon of sorrow,
We are everything, yet nothing!
And as long we’re breathing,
The burden devoid of conclusion!
Unaided I slither — ravaged, silent and alone.
I smolder in anxious strife; I decline these exhausted remnants of decay.
The world is coming to an end; a vast ocean of disease...
All hope is lost... or perhaps this is the cradle of salvation.
I must tranquil these turbulent waters.
No more expressions shall leave my trait...
No further words shall be spoken.
This illness they conceived broke my tired wings.
Lyrics submitted by revontulet, edited by Hateridden
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