Struck by a freight on the freeway,
In pieces and stunned.

She said you died,
How did you die,
Nothing but violent,
Bloodied til you cried
Choking to get by.

Punctured and crushed.
. . .
I hope Heaven's lush.
. . .
I'll miss you this much.
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
This much.

I hope Heaven's lush,
Your bedding plush,
Warm n' safe in the brush.

I'm half of what I used to be,
Half of what I used to be,
That's just what I need,
Embedded this new seed,
Believe in this new creed.

Hang this progress out to dry,
On a warm summer night,
I want you to get inside, pry,
It's all feeling so bright.

So bright, inside, my mind
So bright, inside, my mind

So bright, inside, I'm blind
So bright, inside, I'm blind

So bright, inside, am I alright?
So bright, inside, am I alright?

Violent, aggressive, I'm not kind,
Directed, insisted, I'm not kind,
Sadistic, Masochistic, In my mind.

Inside, am I a bad guy?
Inside, am I a bad guy?

So bright, inside, I'm blind,
So bright, inside, I'm blind.

Inside, am I a bad guy?
Inside, am I a bad guy?

I'm half of what I used to be,
Half of what I used to be,
That's just what I need,
Embedded this new seed,
Believe in this new creed.

Wish we could see the clouds past the metal and concrete,
Miss the song and dance of a single rainy cloud,
Tendrils careening from heaven onto passengers in convertibles,
And in those convertibles hold a ****** bag of capital,
To tear our eyes away from the broadening horizon.

There's someone in the driver's seat,
Try to get your words out but you're beat,
A form made of nothing but muddy peat,
Unable to find a way to rebel, to speak.

Oil blends itself into the water after the storm,
When we step inside it clings to our shoes,
Gripping and shimmering with a distinct stink,
And it'll embed into our skin to possess us,
To tear our eyes away from the flesh it rots.

There's someone in the driver's seat,
Try to get your words out but you're beat,
A form made of nothing but muddy peat,
Unable to find a way to rebel, to speak.

Every ******* house left dilapidated,
Guarded by the dogs of the state,
As saints beg to be allowed inside,
And every body deemed unworthy,
Blown to ******* smithereens,
For the rich, for the powerful,
Wipe their faces of the blood,
That traces the corners of their mouths.

I don't want to hear it,
I want to see it,
I don't want to hear it,
I want to see it,
I don't want to hear it.

I want to see it.
I want to see your feet hit the street.
I better see your feet hit the street.

A still indigo is the vice,
Borrowed a blurry guise,
Finding peace in the eyes,
That's just how to die, I surmise.

The haunted lake,
I cannot unmake,
I cannot forsake,
The next daybreak.

A design to only hunger,
Sealed into a bunker,
Despite a fear monger,
Are you just like me, I ponder.

The haunted lake,
I cannot unmake,
I cannot forsake,
The next daybreak.

Breaking into false illusions,
A pulse preludes these intrusions,
Pollution unto starkest collusions,
Lips cracked in many contusions,
Slips into the darkest delusions.

Tucked a neat little hair behind my eye,
Won't compromise or else I die,
I think you forgot I'm deaf not blind,
Don't you try and get this to slide.

Drag your feet,
Whatever I mean,
Eat your meat,
Keep it clean.

Tired of this endless bitter battle,
Listen to you prittle-prattle,
Spew lies like rejected cattle,
You feel the ground rattle.

Still you're set to follow.

Drag your feet,
Whatever I mean,
Eat your meat,
Keep it clean.

Hurt by the sting of reality,
Won't let go of your banality,
Despite the slaughter's cruelty,
I'm tired of your formalities.

He held you,
Suspended over the edge,
Ice cracking within his eyes,
He hated your careless dreams,
You unleash throat ripping screams.

He released you,
Falling 40,000 high,
Into the lightless pit,
You called his name,
He doesn't feel an ounce of pain.

He abandoned you,
Laying in the smoking rubble,
Crater cradling a broken form,
Slow repair to shattered bones,
You called his name.

But nobody came.

What's left,
The carcass getting picked clean,
All the ****** bones at our feet,
Vultures have had their fill,
Circling above our heads,
Wishing for our downfall.

What's left,
Of a genocidal nation,
When it doesn't hide,
Wears it on its sleeve, that pride,
All the tears our enemies cried,
We flay all the children alive.

What's left,
After it all crumbles away,
The welfare state,
The indomitable hate,
Nobody can afford anything,
It'd all be gone and be too late.