Price to pay

It depends on so many forwarded things in the foot of the grave.
Says everyone around you even if you don't give a damn.
What part of your own death is it you do not understand?

Maybe fear is not enough for us anymore.
Because every move me make could be a life that we take.
Every step we take can be brought toward another break.
Nobody seconds for being the last of the best.

Every lie we sing will be the strongest of a sting.
But nobody wants to waste their hate on just any people.
Its the price we pay that makes murderers stay.
Not for confrontation just consideration in their own world.

Every rule we break to any life we fake is the price we pay.
No life can be bought by glimmering objects just taking it is receiving it.
Its not something you realize when your waking up.

Its something you get when you are alone in the dark.
Wishing, hoping and thinking that minutes can be frozen in the cold.
But its not something anyone owns its a tragedy.
Which reminds us all that we do not know ourselves so quickly.

This was, this is, this will be the last of the first.
What comes to the finish line first is in the obsession's choice.
We hear a endless choir of sentences at one saying.
But thats the mechanism in the price we pay.

Every rule that stands is a snake in the glass.
Staring at your face rushing your blood to a pace.
It wants to be broken like all other rules and shatter into our souls.