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Demo

by Furtive Forest

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1.
if only curtains could close as impressions 'came ordinary facts, realizing... WITH WHAT CHANCE. when with certainty I held in hands, a deadbeat heart full of promises kept and fortitude that never meant to fade. perfection may be liked but embracing flaws it leads to love. question still holds me, another bout of heavy breath and sweat won't distract. why silence? is all i'm left with to stare a side. when i found you never made it clear. not possible for me to hear? clear with hesitation. silent night has come again, why do i have to repeat myself. tell me, (it's your bane) tell me, (it's your bane) tell me, (it's your bane) tell me, (it's your bane) it's your FEAR
2.
3.
i am the man with infinite power, give me thoughts give me hours. these voices will drown the blackest hearts, bluest blood, fools crowns. everybody’s right to believe, shouldn't be the right to cram your thoughts down another’s throat not let you think or control your moral questions and doubts temples may be higher than our heads, but our conscience is not scared with stigmata’s of your kind. and if you fall on your knees, will i withstand these burdens to ease. i am the man with infinite power, give me thoughts give me hours. these voices will drown blackest hearts, bluest blood, fools crowns. spirituality comes in many forms, but you aint one. history is always written in favor of winners, but it always comes down to the one with the blame. cause with other bodies you've paved the road to hell. must i be judge and jury cause i've heard both side of the story. just another tool for pale skin satisfaction. and if you fall on your knees, will i withstand these burdens to ease.
4.
Fountain 01:15
5.
Split Second 02:40
we have been, we have seen even with sour throats spiting, cause these bones still feel seventeen. how long will it take to make the first step, giving every right to what it means. we have been, we have seen wolfpack pushed of the stream. without shivers or a second chance against our grief seasons pass, and if we hurl this cold world we die in dreams. why?! ask yourself. endlessly drowning in passion brought you here, was this served on a platter or did you yearn for every chance. will we be a spark, to lie down becoming a stair for footsteps to come building something so simple that it almost disappears in the eyes of common man. obsession, reminding frustration it comes in sincere melodies and its our medications. dedication sticks under your nails, but can you dig it true all by your self. without shivers or a second chance against our grief seasons pass and if we hurl this cold world we die in dreams.
6.
like a drowning man to driftwood, grabbing, yet overwhelmed by whispers can i call myself alive when by day i fade in to my mare's and wishes that compel escape from what i've became. while at night i dream realty as it should've been. for me able to perceive the real life without resemblance to what i feel. sick of dead ends, needless guidance, giving chances, i want silence. silver, shows no reflections. mirror, where is your reaching hand!? cant look at friends, they're statues that are about to speak, caught up in between of their sickness, all i hear is the pianos crashing point, do i really have to hide, behind walls. names are just words to forget and go on through. there is a ghost in my room, whispering countless words. repeating memories until they wear out as night becomes realty this face can hardly hide expressions, unable to speak until sunlit hours. i guess its always about the questions that devour. where were you when i needed you the most, why have i ended up with days of my ghost

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released December 5, 2011

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Furtive Forest Novi Sad, Serbia

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