Young Writers Society

Verse One
the outskirts of your world
now ripple on the end
and they'll lie you underground
with all the other dead men
life is a small fragment
of a world yet to start
that takes you by hand
but pierces you in heart

Chorus
and i feel it, i think i feel it
this is the final ending
and i feel it, i think i feel it,
there is no more lending
on my first mile, the first mile (yeah)

Verse Two
it will swallow you into
the soar throat of the sky
and vaguely speak in present
then wait for your reply
the enemy will await
the weakening of your hand
but with the death of your desire
he won't find the fall of man

Verse Three
they're tugging at the sides
that you no longer feel
fore earthly pleas and pleasures
were left back in your will
you're climbing out the valley
that rests unpleasant trials
and you're standing in the doorway
of eternity's first mile.