I am a vehicle of expression
a subtle sign of a sleepless adolecence
Or possibly just a sheepish convolecence
With a roar.

Now listen in as words glisten and burn
I am the fist in this world of treason
Spirit of a martyr, but death is oft reason

Can the deaf even see sin as the blind calls out its name?
Giving rebirth to the flame of contempt
Melting the bitter block of ice in the chest

But no satiric lyric or test could fill the rest of this void
I'm just one humble boy employed by the masses
As we suffer this pyrrhic victory for gasses
Gasses, oil, and blood with one bold step
we leave fields cold

To find his gold we follow the hollow mind
Of the masked kind,
until one day as we turn gray we discover
We found a mystery in the history of our years
Drop fearless tears falling the armies of ears
Waiting for the first time they can listen and hear

Their own thoughts, their own faults
Using marks from their own charts
To fill hearts with war, crumble the poor
And I'm sick with it,

They whore our crowds around the point
Then stick it in the apex of coin,
We must join together to weather the storm
The skorn born to prevent our freedom,
Forlorn and forgotten

We set aside our flaws and protect
Against those bidding to reach 'em
Death to chains we will yell as a breathe of pain wells up
In the dim doldrums as one heartless core swells up

With love, let us teach them to hug,
To trust on each other, we will reach another step

'Till on the mountaintops we bleed freedom
I will love those heretics, and I hope I will meet them.