The Scret Lfe of Mark Bristow

the perfect life
the white picket fence kind
the upstanding type
the perfect lie
we've all got demons inside
that tear out the pilgrim dressed in white
they stop us from doing whats right

we can only apologize for
our meaningless sighs that
lack empathy for attempted cries

the perfect life
the perfect life

he clears his throat and smiles
he washes his hands and walks away
from the only woman he ever loved
besides his wife

torn from the hand
of his gone father
hates to have to
let his mother go
brought to life
watching her die

he clears his throat and smiles
he washes his hands and walks away
from the only woman he ever loved
besides his wife

he thinks of how he never
wanted to kill her more
than when he was
watching her sleep
knowing all the while
she had betrayed him

the meek will inherit the earth