The Crusher - From A Second Story Window

A blitzkrieg of grey swarms my senses, while I sit doing my duty…

As this belt speeds by carrying the bodies of those young past…

I can see them pulling the last bag from the boat…

It seems ripped from its journey, human dust spills everywhere clogging my lungs

It’s hard to breathe and this cloud speaks to me of memories gone cold…

One more bag before the five o’clock bell… This cloud it speaks to me of your

end…

These bags could be anyone, they could be me or they could be you

Murder from failure, crush them all, bones to Ash… Life to dust…

Give me the strength to sift these bones.

I don’t know if I can take it

This may be too much… Save yourself from the walls that you are hiding in,

it can get so lonely…

This is actual murder, can.

t you see the change?

Take my arm and run who

wouldn’t do the same…

Give me this poor child;

there lay his legs out straight

Help me bind them tight, and place his head in this…

(Walk die fight run)…

Hear this;

let me grind him to dust… Let this world swallow us