Lightless candle scenes, exposing suicidal dreams. With true denials ever madly, bleeding ever gladly.
In my ear the worthless squawk, air of mindless talk. Forsaken, so called tasteful, the of the wasteful.
Given cancerous caring, as passion is without sharing. sheltered, waterless, are true when empty and pitiless.
Never are broken tears to mending, nor the of an ending. Left to choices of what pays, dogged fears of forgotten days.
eyes of selfish hounds, no regard beyond their bounds. Caught in leashes strictness, answers to their blind witness.
I stand your mindless philosophies, and the you worship reek of insanity. I can't stand desire to make us homogeneous, and the things you do are and callous. I stand your oblivious hypocrisies, and the things you for rot society.
In blinding of the sun, see the madness to be spun. Insanity's love for crippled saneness, truths in its plainness.
Weakness given to the weary, of whom sees so clearly. Safe in they are under, given candies of worthless wonder.
to one who dances, with out music to false romances. Cluttering and open spaces, giving rise to imagined graces.
Invisible minds sing to masses, the merry with empty glasses. Not under or underway, when to stop, is to runaway.
In sunny sightlessness, are the fools vacant cheerfulness. When are like reins to an empty bridle, they are cyanidal.
You're so suicidal, you're cyanidal...and I I stand it, I can't stand it...oh...