I walk quietly into my own damnation
Not fire and brimstone with demons afoot
But the dankest pit fit for a suit of despair

Brisling with a whistling rage
Boiling discontent
With our slow movement
Our lack of improvement

Your grand amusement
Drunken stupidity

What a pity to see
That humanity
Brings out the sorrow in me

Perhaps tomorrow will be
Better