Neon light
Is spilling from inside,
Yet there are few tiny marks
Just near his heart;
Neon is tainted with every shade of grey,
Just like his youth was.
Life of a runaway.
Running away from their screens.
If you simply give it some time -
You can see: his soul and mind
Now are running wild.
But he'll be fine, he'll be fine
On the other side.

Body lays there open
While they're singing perfectly
in tune,
Listening to their muse,
The source of horrors and all the blackness
Artificial light is calling their names,
I thing they've just reached another level
Of madness.
Your screens are proud of you -
It's divine.