the end by sacred mother tongueone two three four come on life feels like it s folding on you like the note you put in your pocket it s like your nuts in the palm of your girlfriends hand and you knowing that she s going to crush it you always said you d be dead forty years to the day sowing seeds in your mind well i cannot sit back suicide no you won t go down this time in time you ll recognise my gift to you and you ll see it can t be beat slow suffocating the wall closing in though i feel your frustration i won t let you down this time not this time not your mind s in a spinlike the wind hurricane suffocating the breath in your lung beer and narcotics add fuel to the flame burning inferno tells you your done in the dark taking your last breath a rope round your neck holds the fear the supprestion of the years in a pretend existance in time you ll recognise my gift to you and you ll see it can t be beat slow suffocating the wall closing in though i feel your frustration i won t let you down this time not this time 