The Echo

Come with me, a broken man
And let me look inside your head
You got the will to bury me
While all the others try to breathe
Everyone has known
That the silhouette has grown
Over the earth that shades
Set 'em free
Oh, I’m starting to swell
But the bitter taste inside of hell
Is the echo of myself
Out in the land of the blackened veil
There lived a man on top of the hill
He’s always dressed in white
Weeping sores from a porous hide
And through his tears the windows bend
(?) pattern of a quilted hem
Shaking glitzes of a song that plays
Set 'em free
Oh, I’m starting to swell
But the bitter taste inside of hell
Is the echo of myself
In the valley where the sky is gray
There lays a man in a shallow grave
He spoke to god with a pleading tone
Throughout the years that spent alone
Molding colors to a blinding haze
Arresting features from a drunken rage
Washing the blood from his calloused hands
Set 'em free
Oh, I’m starting to swell
But the bitter taste inside of hell
Oh, I’m starting to swell
But the bitter taste inside of hell
Is the echo of myself