I see violence but I can't see rage. And in this anger I sense no discontent. I've stared too long into these hollow eyes. A lack of interest, a lack of pride.

Staring down the shoreline, I hate what we've become. A mindless herd in blind pursuit. As we suppress our screams of disbelieve, our throats are coarse from spitting hollow words.

I've been biting my tongue for far too long and I never liked the taste of blood. As we suppress our screams of disbelieve, our throats are coarse from spitting hollow words. And how easy do we move past these statues, disregarding our heritage. Following images in blind believe, while we walk towards our own destruction. As we race towards our own extinction.

In this violence, there is no rage. And in your anger, there is no discontent.

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