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Your conceited doctrines burned, all your principles you spurned |
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Because in truth they were not their, another costume that you wear |
|
The bitterness burns at you |
|
But a lie is never the truth |
|
A supercilious facade to hide the weakness that's at heart |
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In spite the reason that belies the wretched traits you die to hide |
|
The servant was born to betray as the light is sure to face |
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All at once it crashes down |
|
In this mire you will drown |
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To the sound of your own voice |
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Six feet under the gun |
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All the bridges that you burned |
|
Opportunities you spurned |
|
All come crashing down on you |
|
Six feet under the gun |
|
Such a tangled web we weave |
|
In the practice of deceit |
|
For too long we were ensnared |
|
Six feet under the gun |
|
As it unravels 'for your eyes |
|
Only silence nullifies |
|
Sanctimonious denial |
|
Six feet under the gun |
|
Your burning need to hold the floor, to perpetrate the caricature |
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And in sarcastic false riposte malfunction in senseless loss |
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The fantasy swallows you |
|
When you've bitten off more than you can chew |
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All at once... |
