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Open those eyes, wake from peace |
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Orders are some favorite color |
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Same old, same old is their battle cry |
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Why don't we keep searching for a new flavor? |
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Our hearts have become a routine |
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Worthy kings have broken backs for nothing |
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Unless we cherish all with pride |
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The lines on our face will turn |
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Into canyons of sorrow instead of hope |
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They didn't die from the cold without |
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But they died from the cold within |
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And I just can't stop denying |
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That our brothers are in miserable pain |
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Stop short, lend a hand and break the chains |
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Of regularity that you lean so closely upon |
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Your little Suburbia is in ruins |
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Tear down all the assumptions you hold |
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For I guarantee they are false |
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Sometimes the best feeling may be the one that kills |
