Gun powder and hot steel,
The separation from what is real,
To keep us safe or to help us ****.
Clack! Clack! This is not a drill.

You hate the problem but you love the cause,
Like if your strapped you'll protect us all,
But every man is bound to fall,
Bang! Bang! We are all at war.

What they don't understand they **** on sight.
Advance their tools just to ease they're minds.
They make money so it's justified.
Intimidate, never have to hide.

The more we live the more we die.
Both in our hearts and in our minds.
I'd give my life if you gave them time. 
So **** me if that's what's right.

The problems of the mind are the loneliest by far.
They eat at you and eat at you until you are just a shell of meat and bone.
You walk and you talk as if nothing were wrong, but you see, the problems of the mind are the most burdensome of all.

How can you blame someone for the actions that they did in your mind.
For the **** they committed. For the scars they created.
They look at you the same, yet all you can see is the monster that took you and you fear that they will take you again.
Yet, they never really took you at all.
You see the problems of the mind are the most confusing by far.

The growling meant that he was a killer and for it he was neutered and locked in chains.
But to you he is still the man that you see and love everyday.
So the growling became a comfort.
A battle cry to show the world, because he loved you and trusted you with his world, he would always be by your side.
The world may take them as growls of your own, for your own crimes, and that's fine.
Because when you howl the half the world howls and you know that you have even more pained souls on your side.
You see the problems of the mind are the most trial-some by far.

She is your angel and she saved your life that night.
You tell her but she will never quite know that you truly believe it.
She covered you in her wings and covered you tight.
She took the blunt force of the car so you would not die.
Now you owe your life to her and she cannot make sense of it.
She will never know that to you she was actually there.
You see the problems of the mind are the most painful by far.

But now the *****, the dog and the angel all stay in your life.
Never knowing their true roles in your mind.
Never knowing what they said or did that changed your life.
Following the same pace  as the previous night.
Yet you sit alone and in the silence cry, because you still feel the ****, feel the wings and hear the growls at night.
But no one will ever know.
That is why the problems of the mind are the loneliest by far.

I want something that I cannot have. I cannot have it because I don't truly know what it is. I've seen it polished and propped as if it were on display and I've heard the stories of how much time and effort it took to make it look as such. But I want it. I want love. I want the idea of it at least.
I want the fights brought about by events simpler and less important than the time we wasted to have them. I want to be pained by the sight of her pain and know that the feeling of knives piercing my chest when I see her cry is there because I would literally drive them there myself, if only to prevent her tears.
I want our laughs to intertwine over the smallest things and our conversations to stretch our minds over the biggest. I want to see you sleep at night and I'll smile because I know that you're finally at peace. And I want you to smile when you wake up because you know that I'm fighting to make your reality better than your dreams.
I want love. I want romantic love, I want crazy love. I want passion. I want to pick you up in my arms and in that brief present get lost in your presence. I want to be in you when I am in you and have you wish that I would stay forever. I want to be in your heart and mind, and I want our love to be torturous and blind.
I just want love. I want the idea of it at least.