Gentle Giant

Empty promise broken the path has
not been paved any way.
Cogs in cogs the machine
is being left where it lay.
Anger and the rising murmur breaks
the old circle, the wheel slowly turns around.
All words saying nothing
the air is sour with discontent.
No returns have been tasted
or are they ever sent.
Slowly burning is the fire, rising murmur breaks
the old circle, the wheel slowly turns around.