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August Burns Red
August Burns Red


Background information
Origin Manheim, Pennsylvania, United States
Genre(s) Metalcore
Years active 2002—present
Label(s) Solid State Records
Website Website
Members
Jake Luhrs
JB Brubaker
Brent Rambler
Dustin Davidson
Matt Greiner
Former members
Jon Hershey
Josh McManness
Jordan Tuscan



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  A  →  August Burns Red  →  Albums  →  Looks Fragile After All

August Burns Red Album


Looks Fragile After All (08/24/2004)
08/24/2004
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Then all silence is removed from the last room with the cord ripped from the phone.
She stays asleep.
She remains asleep.
Why won’t she wake?
In the background I can hear the trumpets sing their song so powerful, so elegant.
This is what scares me the most.
If I can’t have her, who is there to carry her love across oceans?
She used to remind me that all is not lost,
as long as what you failed doing was something worth more than just your arrogant pride.
This is true my girl.
This is true.
I will always keep that in my mind, to open it.
To be reborn is to define the intent of finding bliss in tragedy.
I’m in your debt

. . .


Time and time again, will his knowledge lead his aggression?
You insist on bringing home a broken child, just like you.
Is this failure what you’re grinning at?
Don’t shut the curtain.
Don’t block the view of precious portraits sending signals of grace.
It’s the only thing left standing in the light.
I’ve got nothing else, but your fire hasn’t gone out just yet.
Is this the best of what you are?
Well it remains subtle, remains silent.
I’ll bring it.
I’ll show them.
Unleashed in a second, I’ll catch them off guard.
It hurts to say that I’m at a loss for words, but you’ve brought this on yourself.
Seems to feel better when taking a step outside.
The wind will carry my thoughts much easier.
Don’t be so blind.
Just stop and look around to what you’re missing these opportunities.
There could be something nice to say to you.
Maybe the next time we meet,
you will be smarter in choosing your place in this world for a promising purpose

. . .


Blooming into a fight for glory, we will rise above.
We will rise above all else.
The glory for us.
But in the beginning we’ve dug this endless hole.
Here we are, and I know we will have to work together.
And in the beginning we’ve kept our redemption back.
Here we are.
I know we’ll take the strife by its throat,
in order to free each other from what we’ve fallen for in the first place.
Let’s go.
Here we come to dream of progress,
and to rationalize our actions to make sense
for those who ignore the price they pay for cheating us.
Remember that we become those who we die for,
carrying their guilt on our shoulders,
only having a life lost in the heat of innocent bravery.
We are our loved ones heroes, and they won’t even notice.
They can’t.
That’s the beauty of it, I guess

. . .


Walls are painted as a brightness surrounding the tired and desperate eyes of that figure standing on the edge.
Can it pull its weight when it takes that step and spreads its lovely arms to free-fall without fear?
Shots in my direction dance with my life, danger in consequence makes me alive.
Won’t you take back the blood on the dirt, and place the breathing back in its source.
The ambience of this moment makes our tears run so cold.
Why must you be the one to take the pain
my best friend, look at you now.
They gave you a carved name reflecting back to their wet eyes.
So just let go of regret.
Your wings are linked to fly, but they may never take flight when you hold onto your regret.
So just let go.
In this pathetic struggle, this is what I say:
We give our greatest efforts to strengthen our only surviving chances

. . .


Currently holding that tongue.
Let’s just see what happens.
Sky is red tonight.
It moves streaming with rain that beats the pavement.
How does it sound against the church roof or its bells?
It probably echoes.
Sanctuary meets comforting.
The mother sews as the father searches for his gun.
Shots hurt my ears.
I’ll bite my lip to take in the deafening.
Shots hurt my ears.
I’ll shut my eyes to remember the symphonies.
I’m surprised to find him running in the rain.
It’s too dangerous.
Risking the chance that bullets would fly with their purpose straight to the life.
All too many simple mistakes disguising innocence.
Tension builds in every nerve.
I’m tired of falling short in understanding what it all meant,
or what it’s supposed to mean.
I was relieved to see your face when I woke,
before the last accidental shot brought my father to his knees, face in his hands.
It felt good to be saved in some way

. . .





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