There's 6 million ways to die
6 billion ways of life
With trillions in spikes
The consequences of suffering is tight

The whole is different from the parts
So go and shoot the darts at arts
With the greater truth lost in faults
& lines of earthquakes made up of chalk

The black and white make a picture
With questions and answers
Signed, sealed, delivered, to manufacture
The guns, the pins, and then the triggers

Because the flicker of the red line
Attracts the dead signs in crime
But it's all put there by design &
As such is inclined to drink red wine

To drink away the influences
The static mother message
To save you from wreckage
But still you can't accept it

So you keep marching on
To the beats and the arms
Of the tons and the laws
Of the builders of structures hulls

But the ship of the manifest destiny
Is making these darker lovers weep
But not to sweep them off their feet
Because they still got tags to meet

So at that time it's ****** ******
By someone you've never heard of
Brothers and sisters dying is the motive
To make you strike allegiance and devotion

To the machine, you know what I mean?
That thing that clings to the righteous means
Of fighting the things that light their springs
On fire so their likeness is scorched and diseased

With no more jumping from danger
We all pledge allegiance to the stranger
Weak and meek boil over to anger
And the cycle repeats it's very nature

In other parts of the globe
Demonstrations as they poach
The thoughts that revoked
The morals that they approached

The oak of the one mind of life
Fires and rolling tires fill the night
Senseless mobs to LA riots, right?
The ship ends with ghost after fights

The consequences of suffering scenes
More terrible than any uttering dreams
The differences make the different mutter things
The majority stomps out the minorities and ruptures spleens

But maybe Cleopatra can get a handle
However at this time King Arthur is out of samples
The Great Alexander is even out of answers
And we can't count on Mayans with their calendars

So I say burn it all down
The future isn't known
They can try to keep you down
But they can't touch your soul

Melt all the luminescent gold
And use it to shower the poor
6 billion humans on the Globe
Like I said, the future isn't known

Because it's not televised,
But going against is ill advised,
So as one could surmise,
This is a butterfly,
Leaving a web of lies,
And finally making its long awaited flight...

The consequences of suffering:
The palm of the outstretched hand will strike.