The lost moths drawn to your flame
Keep you entertained for a while
Until you're tired and set them on fire
Some you let live
You won't let them go
You want control
You suck them dry
Use them until they fly

Your cynicism and modified honesty
Turns time into your enemy

As the evening sun of life is sinking low
There's still one crooked path for you to go
One last thing left for you to do
Tell your children not to be like you

Don't expect any more than what's coming to you
As long as your aim is all that is true

You became what you used to pretend
And I can't believe you used to be my friend

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