Текст песни Folly - The Wake

In hind sight for sore eyes on the prize fighter
Pilot, gunner, navigator, the sky
The mountains luke-warm, metaphorically speaking
Speaking of metaphors?
The simile is a front-runner
The simile lacks a blue-print
With an enchanting proposal, one foot led the other, congruent
To think your only god would flaunt you
To think your only god would fight you!
Raise a frail fist at the creator
Scream "I want to meet my maker!" persistently the ground tends to make way for you
Exchange all those hats for a hairline
Define the cycles of existence to think and act just as we do
We're blasphemous separatists de-railing the trains of thought
Reparations for misopportunities
Pay some respect: the transitional currency
Reimbursed
Sleeping soundly
Should have soaked it all in, absorbed the pouring rains past
Let sheets blanket the suits so the dust can settle in sorrow
Last showing?