It infiltrates, insidious It feints at love, betrays our trust In what we`ve known since we were born The truth we`ve found in all we see Points to design Still our chests swell We`ll never find true answers from a wishing well
So feed us all another lie To still our thoughts, appease our pride So we won`t have to change the way We see, we live, we love, we die Our lusts precede our blasphemy Our logic reads like notes from tainted autopsy
Our souls they speak of something more But we can`t look beyond ourselves We implore empty skies because Our hearts hold room for no one else
We extend our claws to grasp the shadows of the Ideals we have lost Casualty of a subtle dagger Buried to the hilt in our heart Blood on our hands
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