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Bridge to Solace - Of Bitterness and Hope cover art
Band
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Of Bitterness and Hope

(2003)
TypeStudio Full-length
GenresMelodic Death Metal, Metalcore
LabelsGSR
Album rating :  -
Votes :  0
Lyrics > B > Bridge to Solace Lyrics (30) >

Of Bitterness and Hope Lyrics

(8)
Submitted by level 록스타
1. These Maps Are Written with Blood (4:05)
This is my song for the hate of this world. So you wanna see us be the next in line as we march to the dead with our heads silently bowed. Let’s fucking tear

our lives apart, cut our veins so our blood will serve as the ink for you to redesign the borders. Policemen of the world please unite. Rewrite the maps with

our very blood. Is there anything left for us to deny? Or our remaining rights are only to die? This is my song of bitterness and hope. Laws are silent in

times of war, so we’d better shut the fuck up as well. This way at least we can be labeled as good people who serve the purpose of helping the western wind

colonize lands untouched by it’s dirty plastic shine. So you wanna see us be the next in line? Well, my friend, I really hope that instead of us, you’ll be

standing in the line. In the line of fire.
2. How Long Do We Have to Bear Our Fucking Crosses (3:05)
I know that sometimes is not easy to forgive me, but I fucking swear I still bear this cross, and sometimes I even felt the need to bear thousand fucking

more. I had my share from this stinky piece of cake called regret, but I will no longer humiliate myself to your need of calling myself a sinner, while you

are easily taking the crown of the saints. How long de we have to bear our fucking crosses on our shoulders as a dead weight that pushes us into apathy? How

long do we have to confess sins that we actually never ever committed? Will we always be separated into saints and sinners? Those who bear the crosses might

just as well have the glory, while the ones considered clean might just caught red handed. I will no longer humiliate myself. I will no longer cry tears of

regret. I will just rise and take the crown, fly towards the sky and let this world burn their hyprocrite saints, and let them rent a place in hell. This sky

is ours.
3. Will You Rewrite History with Me (3:15)
Will you take my hand, and rewrite history with me? Will you catch my breath, hold my face in your hands, look deep into my eyes, and scream that we will make it? Or end up just like all those millions before… Don’t get me wrong, I am into pushing limits as well, but I have seen enough fates, and enough faces covered by tears, enough shoulders embraced, enough stories told, enough yes-es and enough no-s, enough hopes that were dying last. This of course in no way should be taken as me giving up on anything, I am just simply trying to clear that whenever anyone is ready to beat me to the ground, I will not fucking care at all, because I have lived my fate, and my face was covered by tears, and whenever my shoulders were embraced, there were thousands of stories that left thousands of lips, I have heard yes-es and no-s, and I also have said those and my hopes were dead and then exhumed, were dead and exhumed, were dead and exhumed, were dead and exhumed. If you love someone, let her to be free, and whenever she returns, you know she was always yours, if she never comes back, she never did belong to you. Fuck yeah, I am sure I will rewrite history, will you do it with me? There is nothing left to lose, will you do it with me?
4. Deathrace with Dimension 4 (3:22)
As I watch this clock ticking the seconds of my life away. As I watch myself selling my life out. As I walk these streets of this city closed within dirty walls. The cold wind dries the passion of my heart, and I barely feel alive. And I feel paralyzed by this damn thing called „growing up”. What once was life is nothing more than a couple of stolen seconds. Do I really want this? Should this really be the direction I’m heading for? This senseless deathrace with dimension four. If only once, someone would stop this rain, what would be here to wash my sins away. If only once I could stop the monotonous tick-tock of this clock that counts the moments of my life down. If again I could escape from the circle of this „responsible life”. I’d fucking swear I’ll steal everything back, what this glossy fake half-life did take from me. I’d fucking swear I’ll put blood back in my starving heart
5. Rethink. Redefine. Revolt. (3:41)
Why are we casting these stones around? Who are those we aim? Are they the mystical „them”, or is it just a mirror of ourselves reflecting how apathetic we really are? Let’s throw stones at the barricades we stand on, let’s spit in the face of the old slogans we chant, and redefine what resistance or revolution can mean and achieve. Our actions should be more than a sonorous and desperate cry for help, with our minds staying clear and strong and with the ability and freedom of choice we should carve our way along creating new solutions for problems unsolved. And before we point our fingers at the mystical them, we all should kneel with our heads deep bowed, and blame ourselves for not taking a chance but to release some snakes who form ropes around our necks. In no way will I surrender and obey the patterns “they” force-fed, but neither will I accept and sing along to a song some wrote back then in order to hinder an alternative form of living, in order to cage the ones without rules within four walls of rules and turn our shelter a living unbearable hell. We have just one chance left in order to conquer “them”: we should conquer ourselves. Find new means to break every cage, find new means to break all our chains. Find new means to communicate
6. Behind Your Words of Righteousness (3:48)
This is something I definitely wouldn’t call boys fun at all. And it’s just goddamn ironic, how you blame the cross and the book of lies for your earthly miseries, but in all of a sudden, you’re ready to speak their fucking words, whenever it comes down to the rights of someone else’s body, who you probably never met, never saw and of course never even talked to. Fuck yeah, just go ahead and keep your fucked up theories of life, and do your fucking best to talk for something to happen, what you have absolutely no clue of. I just wonder what the fuck you’re looking for, in a so called progressive movement, screaming slogans of totally fucked up righteousness. And sure, just go and wage this war against their bodies and their minds. Probably you don’t care if it was an accident or rape, living being vs. living being, one or both ends up being the victim of our everydays, one or both ends up being the victim of this fucking system. Dude you’re so goddamn fucking lame
7. Paper Bags and Plastic Cups (4:09)
And these neon lights just burn our eyes, while dead air’s filling our lungs. We slave away our lives instead of dancing in the remains of this forgotten world. We are just the objects of trade in this death rat-race of this globe gone wild. Tell me what is left for us, tell me what is left for me. Is it only the paper bag what holds our flesh, and the plastic cup we drink our blood from? We buy our packaged lives back from the ones we are selling our souls to. There’s a damn good sense of business in here. Reproduced human lives from a pounding heart to a cup of blood, from a breathing body to a bag of shredded burning flesh. You buy, we sell, we buy, you sell. This is just a damn fucking circle, and in the end we always lose. Looks like a tiring game we constantly play, but still, we are so easy to be led astray by the constant agenda, what might help us believe that we will win by trading ourselves away for a bunch of papers that do have numbers. While we are the ones who are THE numbers. This is just like a code on our foreheads. Control. Delete. Control. Delete. Press Enter and erase us from the maps. Times are changing, so be fast. Control. Delete. Control. Delete. Press Enter until we press backspace.
8. In the Shadow of Death (3:12)
Speechless I lay down my head. Shaking from this feeling of emptiness. Every fucking time I try to create definitions of what my missions are, and why are we brought to this world when the end result is totally fucked, I choke for air, and tears flow like bleeding rivers from my eyes, down my cheek, ending where once I will lay. I can never find words to express that how I feel being totally helpless, and alone with this, but I just can never stop worrying about this, even if I end up, and become fucking nothing, just like everyone else will. Well, I guess, this is natural order, well fuck that. And what makes it scarier, are all the people who just try to cash in on this, all those people waiting for it. No fucking dogmas can save me, no fucking higher power can save me. Just myself, and my creativity, all the things I care for, and all the people I just love for being here. And fuck, this is why it hurts, this why it hurts. All the things we lived for, are just going to be fucking nothing. Just like you. Just like me. But these are our catalysts to keep us going on and on and on and on and on and on and on. I can never find words to express that how I feel. Fuck, I just can never say goodbye. I hate to say goodbye, it’s unfair to say goodbye, I don’t want to say goodbye
9. Bonus Track (3:03)
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