| Our time is borrowed and forced | 
| We atrophy in your ascension for more | 
| The writing on the wall is fading | 
| Cascading down and blacking out our light | 
| We atrophy in your ascension for more | 
| The words are weighed to chapters closing | 
| The pages kept the ones who’ve lost their stride | 
| I see you’ve written out the lines upon the course you’d have us ride | 
| But what if we refuse to sign? | 
| I won’t follow you down | 
| You fan the flames to torch the future | 
| While I watch you burn it to the ground | 
| You fan the flames to torch the future | 
| I think I found the answer to the question | 
| Maybe moving on is our salvation | 
| It’s pulling teeth to start again | 
| Lines still remain suspend your sentence | 
| An open-ended story you would bind | 
| This ink we bleed is drawn from knowing | 
| You’d lose the plot in trying to survive | 
| It’s pulling teeth to start again and again | 
| But what if we refuse to? | 
| And I won’t follow you down | 
| You fan the flames to torch the future | 
| While I watch you burn it to the ground | 
| You fan the flames to torch the future | 
| I think I found the answer to the question | 
| Maybe moving on is our salvation | 
| Is this a self-fulfilling prophecy? | 
| Is this your self-fulfilling prophecy? | 
| And I won’t follow you down | 
| You fan the flames to torch the future | 
| While I watch you burn it to the ground | 
| You fan the flames to torch the future | 
| I think I found the answer to the question | 
| Maybe moving on is our salvation | 
| It’s pulling teeth to start again |