Lying through my teeth, stealing with my eyes,
hands behind my back, will about to die.
With character in question, mind about to blow,
sins making saints possible, speeding lights move slow.
There's nothing to misinterpret, no justices nor crimes,
only widows and rain, crossing over through time.
Eating my shallow falsehoods, swallowing my foolish pride,
casting off withered facades, awakening from this ride.
Drowning in my genius, falling from my grace,
losing what we've forgotten, Forgetting our mile pace.