What happens when a match is lit   The fire will brew   Traces of smoke   Representing a whole bunch   of forgotten reasons      When the trigger is pulled   Is the fault   the finger who pulls   or the gun that fires   It's a large vault   jammed full of petty reasons      CHORUS:   It's a disciplined breakdown   To let yourself down   But in a conspired sequence   Just when it gets tense   The fall comes around      Whose the fall guy when a string   shatters its hold   Is it the one who pulls the weak end   Or is it the one who broke its hold   With one snap, everything falls cold   At any cost, it would subside   All of this is suicide      (CHORUS)      The match is on its last burn   The gun is on its last shot   The thread is on its last strain   And everythings breaking   But its almost like a conspiracy   Against your own self   The tables will begin to turn   And I won't be able to sustain   All of this pain      (CHORUS)