Victorians

Is it a crime? Is it a wonderland?
Born of a time, wishing to understand.
Forget your lies, forget your everything.
You'll never know, all that you meant to be.
And the truth will soon discover, you fall so far behind,
Keeping all that you have captured in your time.

History, is forgotten now you've gone away,
All the words, and the tokens of an early age,
Claiming to, be the last of the Victorians.

Is it a lie, born of a holy age?
Forgotten times, lost in an inner state.
And the truth will soon discourage, you fall so far behind,
Keeping all that you have captured in your time.

History, is forgotten now you've gone away,
All the words, and the tokens of an early age,
Claiming to, be the last of the Victorians.

August June and January,
We have seen the life you've made,
Crumble down before your very eyes.

August June and January,
We have seen the life you've made,
Crumble down before your very eyes.

Is it a crime?
Is it a crime?
Is it a crime?
Is it a crime?