Prognosticate
Prognosticate
Prognosticate the fall
Wishing well
Oh wishing well
But did you tell them all?
Cognitive
I've come to grips
We're enemies at war
Everything you stand for is a farce
The end for me, has come for us all
We are the
Unending terror, the end of an error
Meanwhile my back is breaking
And I refuse to fall
Streamline this conscience aching
And cease before the light of dawn
The only son, My only father
I was your only chance to set things right
But punctuation, Need that last word
I hope that bullet gave you freedom that night
Breathe in the fire, That's how he feeds
Bring on the heartache, It's what he needs
Be gone the father, Satiate his taste for greed