Scarcity inside,
she likes it like that,
the tears so liquid blue,
clearing myself of the hate,
that for so long plagued me.

I heard it cry from way back,
they seem to scream so beautifully,
the screams of sorrow,
they all ring inside my head,
the iron will,
burning this misery tune within my mind.

So I do sit here all alone,
and watch the dust flow within air,
my heart string pops,
blinded by the love of darkness,
the reckless jerking of the empty
man.

I make Pain because I can
still to shout an obscenity,
their all virgin screams,
so dark like all our pain,
so I ask you please,
wont you take me from this hell,
all the souls grow frail.

So its still dark,
and I'm all alone,
in an empty room,
maybe my whispers will fall upon deaf ears,
and the blindness of innocence
will taint the sinful pride
in us all...

So this pain keeps coming,
to death beside me,
and hate in front of me,
questioning me about all the things
I never seen,
squelched sanity.

Burning with the passion
of tedious greed,
the fine veil between pain and pleasure,
the agony in depression,
it all just breaks down one day,
into a small piece of nothingness.

To much do we find pleasure in hatred,
we bend down and idolize those before,
us,
the fame overtaking us now,
can you see through that thick screen
of fog,
because I can see straight through,
all your torture and smoke you,
impale yourself with.

So the sin still breeds,
and our pain,
still sings out only to be heard
with its bitter sweet tune,
fading while tranquilized.
 
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