The innocents are coming out to die,
Their back's against the sky,
The sun leaking through their sides,
The time is now to walk on,
To leave this life behind and those who built it
so high, so that only those
who can afford wings can fly,
leaving the rest to die.

Left in slow ruin and pain,
We long to be reborn
through love and the sane,
Doom is only before us,
A path laid by masons
to guide us easily on our way,
to a destination destitute with pain.

Can you smell it in the air?
The smell of fever and disease
created by a higher greed,
to fulfil a plot of twisted deeds,
labouring over common needs.

Behind the bushes and the trees,
There are mysteries to be seen,
Stark, wild and mad people,
Dressed in silk, cloaked in hoods,
Their eyes in darkness as they should,
To see no trickery or lies, they hide behind
masks whilst laughing inside.

The innocents are coming out to die,
Their backs against the sky,
The sun leaking through their sides,
The time is now to walk on,
To leave this life back and beyond.