Society is a funny thing
your born in this world...
It doesn't matter what I say or can not say.
If the words come out will they even matter that...
Wet, ice cold, sweating profusely
my pals subjected to the same fate...
To revoke humanity
and take upon the burden...
In my theater made of ice
Dark music dances crossed my stage...
Given one final night, what would you do?
stand up for your morals, fight for your king...
It's the demon inside me,
and the imp on my shoulder...
Sunlight ricochets from the razor wire onto
The dead empty wine bottle pointing North...
I cry out for those with no voice
I try and help those with no food or water...
I wish I was on holiday
Close to the sun and sand...
Theres a couch in the woods that I call my own
I pulled and tugged and brought it there...
Penguins.
The staples attach each paper...