I struggle through through the night and into each cruel day fighting wars within myself the cause for your dismay How can you call yourself happy when you fight for your own greed you rage and fight I hope this night wont bring me to my knees I see the porcelean faces painted on each young girl covering herself up to hide from the judgemental world I hide beneath these walls of grey to keep my hidden from your eyes they burn our twisted bodies until we reach the consistency of clay They mold us into soldiers vessels filled with hate we fight the wars they feed us while opening Lucifer's gates When we've destroyed the landscape What, pray tell is left? ashen trees and broken bodies scattered about in dust.
