Times Like Molten Lead

When ignorance is bliss
Our voices nothing but a sore hiss
We yearn for redemtion, for an end

Yet we keep heading on
While time's expanding - running slow
Like streams of molten lead
In this moments of need
Our memories will soon be gone

There'll be no end
There'll be no end
...
No end
No end
...
No end
No end
...
Father, is this the end?