All the misery you create, and all the pain you shape... You are not to blame, my friend. Somebody filled your empty page Shaped as we silently wept, Confined (as) transformation begins. The table was set and then we slept as architects of time So much grief behind the facade and symptoms of certain demise. We drown in fragrant illusions, illusions of right and wrong. We clench to a lustful saint digging graves on top of our lives Stuffed with values til we choke, I guess we've reached the end of the rope Through the mist, in the haze, the impending doom's upon us The dividing blade of nature and man severed our callow breath The sun will set on the blindfolded The self-appointed guardians are scratching at my door. We kiss their venomous lips and join the hallowed parade. Flying on paralyzed wings wondering who we should be As tyranny becomes normality; We hang at the end of the rope Through the mist, in the haze, the impending doom's upon us The dividing blade of nature and man severed our callow breath The sun will set on the blindfolded
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