Broken

I think it’s finally sinking in:
I am nothing but a product of your sins.
Hoping for the best, but now I steady watch the hands of time moving like a guillotine, and swiftly counting down my life and it goes on, and on, and on.
We are the broken hoping for a change of heart.
We are the chosen praying for a shooting star.
And even if the sky comes crashing down, even if the world was ending now, we are the broken, but don’t cry for me.
I think I finally understand, the world is spinning off its course all part of the plan.
Like a phoenix from the ashes I have risen from the deepest grave, and the only thing I love is the only thing that keeps my pain;
it goes on, and on, and on.
We are a revolution.
We are the indigo, and we will never give up, never let go.
So what’s the resolution?
And even if the sky comes crashing down, even if the world was ending now;
it goes on, and on, and on.
We are the broken hoping for a change of heart.
We are the chosen praying for a shooting star.
And even if the sky comes crashing down, even if the world was ending now, we are the broken generation;
it goes on, and on, and on.