All the misery you create,

and all the pain you shape...

You are not to blame, my friend.

Somebody filled your empty page.



Shaped as we silently wept,

confined (as) transformation begins.

The table was set and then we slept

as architects of time



So much grief behind the fa ade

and symptoms of certain demise.

We drown in fragrant illusions,

illusions of right and wrong.



We clench to a lustful saint

digging graves on top of our lives.

Stuffed with values til we choke,

I guess we've reached the end of the rope



Through the mist, in the haze,

the impending doom's upon us

The dividing blade of nature

and man severed our callow breath



The sun will set,

set on the blindfolded



The self-appointed guardians

are scratching at my door.

We kiss their venomous lips

and join the hallowed parade.



Flying on paralyzed wings

wondering who we should be

As tyranny becomes normality;

We hang at the end of the rope



Through the mist, in the haze,

the impending doom's upon us

The dividing blade of nature

and man severed our callow breath



The sun will set,

set on the blindfolded