Blood on the Rung Songtext
von Void Dancer

A fear of height serves a constant reminder
How far your flaws can fall
Fear of success
Keeps you from reaching for it

Embrace your time
Waste your life waiting in vertical lines
Just to climb
And gain nothing of value
High contrast, low exposure
Undernourished and under restraint
As we climb
Then decline
Just to end up in the same place

A constant state of crisis
The altitude is sickening
We push on


With heels to finger every rung
Never looking down because
The guilty learn not to feel guilty
For the ones they walk upon
One step upward beckons
Voices from the bottom
They are pleading, taunting, haunting
Your sight of mind is blind you never look
Three steps away

No victory to celebrate
Ascend

Cynics and climbers
To the overcrowded middle
Loathe yourself as much as I loathe those above
Constant state of crisis
Drawn, quartered, pushed and pulled
Noose around achieving necks
Bloodletting of the pure

I′ve seen red stains on the top rung
The altitude is sickening
I've seen enough so I let go