What happens when a match is lit
The fire will brew
Traces of smoke
Representing a whole bunch
of forgotten reasons

When the trigger is pulled
Is the fault
the finger who pulls
or the gun that fires
It's a large vault
jammed full of petty reasons

CHORUS:
It's a disciplined breakdown
To let yourself down
But in a conspired sequence
Just when it gets tense
The fall comes around

Whose the fall guy when a string
shatters its hold
Is it the one who pulls the weak end
Or is it the one who broke its hold
With one snap, everything falls cold
At any cost, it would subside
All of this is suicide

(CHORUS)

The match is on its last burn
The gun is on its last shot
The thread is on its last strain
And everythings breaking
But its almost like a conspiracy
Against your own self
The tables will begin to turn
And I won't be able to sustain
All of this pain

(CHORUS)