wait   the passion is ending   it fell together   and it'll fall apart and now   the dead ends are binding   the ropes around our necks   so how far can we strech   we're fighting   fate's fatal grip (up?) of our graves (not sure on this line)   so trace   the phalanx   of kills   for thrills   (don't have any idea)   the passion filled, the desperate, the wasting away   too high to die   built to spill   but not to break      so climb   the steps of the dead lives   they came together   and they'll come apart like smiles   and backwoods by beatings(doesn't make sense but all i could figure out)   the days into night   nights into day   we're grazing   fields of dead memories that should blaze(not sure)   so trace   the phalanx   of kills   for thrills   the passion filled, the desperate, the wasting away   too high to die   built to spill   but not to break      i think i've lost my mind tonight   so i think i'll blow your mind this time      the passion filled, the desperate, the wasting away   too high to die   built to spill   but not to break