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As I sit back and slowly lose myself
wondering what it's like to be somebody else
stupid fucking questions best left to myself
like would this head look good on a shelf
my simple conclusions yet to be unveiled
when my thoughts collapse
the drugs will prevail

but that doesn't mean that you can judge me
I can take you to the door but only you have the key

we are nothing
but composed particles of dust
longing
searching for answers
hopelessly misguided

my cause is lost
there is no silver lining
is it so wrong that I take comfort in violence?
so tell me, is it so wrong?
is it so wrong that I take comfort in violence?

I come to you
your conscience and your friend to tell you that you're not abandoned

you must look in to truly understand
to ask yourself the questions
to truly understand
when will you get it through your thick fucking head
that we've created a monster

I have seen the innocence lost in your eyes
it's the same look I have in mine

what have they done?

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