Tiltmeter Prolonging The Wake-Up Call Lyrics

I don't ask or understand, how I wound up in this chair. Licking the boundaries
of a gun and tasting the smoke of the last round.

This isn't passed- out, this is just scared to death. It's not a countdown but
seconds in which to live.

Hair pulled back to arch my spine that my tied hands hide behind. This isn't passed- out, this is just scared to death. It's not a countdown but
seconds in which to live. It's hot under these lights, blistering in a sense. Rope
burn and frost bite cancel each other out.