Am I loosing my footing
Restrained from keeping blance
But always seemed to see upright

While we watch it all burn, all fall apart
The world succumbs to waste
As we sit in decency, waiting for someone or something to move us out of the slump

Granted, we are the spoiled fruit
Let common sense slip through our darkened hands and follow your leader to the grave

We'll wash away in this
If this is all we can give we will
And you'll hear one less word from me.