Inside we want it. We claim all there is to take.
And outside we flaunt it. We rape and disintegrate all that she ever made.
The course of our actions has left our lives in the calloused and cold hands of fate.
The scale of forgiveness is weighing our lives on the curve of a sharpened blade.
Lives once so violent, our cries now grow silent.
This is what you get when you make bad decisions.
And these are the results of your sickening ambitions.
The walls can’t maintain manifestations of your brain.
So let this incision be your final lesson.
We are professional, gutless backstabbers.
We made a business out of throwing our brothers and sisters straight to the wolves.
But I guess it’s no different. We were slaves in our golden age.
With a different master who hid behind advertising and signing our lives away.
And damn what a shame. There won’t be a story to tell or a soul to blame.
So as we burn down in flames, we flip open the book and we black out the names.
Lives once so violent, our cries now grow silent.
This is what you get when you make bad decisions.
And these are the results of your sickening ambitions.
The walls can’t maintain manifestations of your brain.
So let this incision be your final lesson.
We are professional, gutless backstabbers.
We made a business out of throwing our brothers and sisters straight to the wolves.
This is what you get when you make bad decisions.
And these are the results of your sickening ambitions.
We’re slaves.
We have to lay inside the bed we have made.
No longer free. Lived out as slaves.