In my world, eternity has no weight,
And doctors don't heal, they simply wait,
To see what happens to the new diseased,
When lies run out, and the end's released.

In my world, the walls soar over the trees,
To see, we cut our lids with blades that tease.
For freedom, we’re ready to give it all,
Uncaring what comes, whatever befalls,
When lies run out, and the end is near.

I’ll remain forever upon this bench,
With stripes on my wrists and a view entrenched,
I’ll take anything, just let me flee,
From the dread of returning back to me.

When lies run out, and the truth breaks free,
Who will remain, there, standing with thee?