[01:01.05]Man finds his future in compliments,[01:07.47]Another in insults.[01:08.46]Both beauty and brokenness waver on wording.[01:11.40]The meek and the mighty, the both of them crumble at it's scourge,[01:18.81]Still echoing carries it's curse.[02:28.83]What's whispering that it would have you indulging in it's kiss,[02:36.51]Ensnared and enchanted, indefinite groaning.[02:44.82]And the point of all you would say is what's piercing even you,[02:52.59]As you're falling upon your sword.[03:16.41]And it's curse.[03:16.71]Sow your sayings sparingly,[03:19.53]These hearts are fertile.[03:20.52]Know that complacent lips may bleed thee,[03:31.35]Render you regretful of your cast impressions, through these, your words.[04:51.48]This is ripe,[04:51.96]Your harvest is that of thorns[05:06.81]And you're constantly fashioning face from the fall of your foes