I was named after the thing with pages I was bound to knowledge of their ages I was not deemed enough They wanted guns and now they're gone. gone gone gone Do I have a function yet or Should I simply submit melt me down into something sought let them feast on bullets when I am naught I was made by forgotten echoes I was ignored by those same egos I was not deemed enough They wanted guns and now they're gone. gone gone gone Do I have a fleeting glimpse of hope a will-o'-the-wisp All these dreams inside are not lost Let them feast upon all I preserved.
