No Heir to the Throne - Prey for Nothing

Powerless I stand before you

The tides of shifting sands of time

Cracks, holes and empty promises

Like that writhing skin of mine

Scattered are the ashes of this momentary sigh

Held by the throat I am left on my own

Disciple of titles, I have searched for a sign

And thus I will leave no heir to the throne

In retrospect almost all that we do is a waste

Meaningless cells in a meaningless pace

Monuments of forgetfulness

Surrond me like halos of flies

Regrets that bear no fruit at all

Are all that’s left before I die

Scattered are the ashes of this momentary sigh

Held by the throat I am left on my own

Disciple of titles, I have searched for a sign

And thus I will leave no heir to the throne

Suit for a king is this effort

Remained behind glass, out of sight

No one is immortal

If our work is embraced by light

Scattered are the ashes of this momentary sigh

Held by the throat I am left on my own

Disciple of titles, I have searched for a sign

And thus I will leave no heir to the throne