Weaving the Same Old Sequence Songtext
von ochre

Spider, spider on the wall
I bet you′d have some stories
If you could talk
The saying is "being on the wall like a fly"
But I prefer the chaos
What's it like to be the source of their demise

Inform me all about the sight
Inform me all about the horror
Inform me all about their eyes
Inform me about the last breath of a goner

Spider, spider on the wall
I bet you′d have some stories
If you could talk
A thousand acts of honour
A thousand perspectives that challenge if it's even normal.


Inform me all about the sight
Inform me all about the horror
Inform me all about their eyes
Inform me about the last breath of a goner
Dismissing every truth that they said would set you free
Climb as high as you can up the tallest tree you see.
You spot a branch that could hold your weight
Who'd have thought you needed it
When you can weave all these webs
Are they stable enough to call a bed?

The conversation dies
And it′s not for the lack of us trying
Gilded silence
Communication never reprises.

I swear, that here, you could hear a pin drop
The same pin you aimlessly search in the haystack for
With no luck, no result,
With no chance to ever flee from what they call "fucked up"

I swear
I swear