I guess disillusion is the way of all the world
An excuse for all the pain we cause and unfurl
I say that what doesn't kill you makes you weaker everyday
But fools will run there jaws just to hear the words they say
Ive known little peace raised up bad in this place
the hole in my chest screams to me at the waste
if i was to tell you of the deeds i have done
you would turn your back on me and into the hills you would run
Oh yes! keep it incomplete
Our joy would ruin it so
I dream of rats and the squall of rooks and jays
I hear the scratch of things to witch you shouldn't prey
i read the words of which should not be spoken
I know the things that dwell inside and should not be woken
