Moving Spirit

Shallow minds tighten the grip

Killing the last of the poets

He fell down to his knees

And drowned in the cold concrete flow

I long for what's untouched by man

I will dismiss answers based on nothing-ground

I forge dreams to uncoil

I long for what's untouched by man

I even seek answers where they may not be found

I roam these virgin soils

Atlas shrugged, I could feel

Clouds fell from the mourning sky

They're closing all too soon

All too soon

Leaders of crowds turned stale, unfit to move

Pathetic freaks endorse dream deceivers

Antique festered minds

Reduced to mock desire

Those who create should not corrupt their voice

Hyped is the feeble imitator

Seek and you will find

Beauty to be denied

Bleeding moving spirit

Man bleed the moving spirit dry

Bleed the moving spirit

Man, they bleed the moving spirit... dry