Burn, blow away as dust I cast you out
Push you off the precipice, I have no doubt
Finger on the trigger, just say when


blow away as dust, never see you again

now, walk away you must, I turn my back
never can you trust those who attack
so you'll fall to earth
then you'll learn
the only way back
is to burn

Burn, burn

Now, bury deep you pride and close your eyes
nothing left inside but the haunted cries
finger on the trigger, the dawn has turned
the white light burns, the white light burns

- Rabbit Junk, "Precipice"