"If you can wait until I arrive home
then I will put you to sleep every night.
You'll no longer have to hide in your dome
because I will be there to shed you light.

I will hold you close, like a brother should
and chase away the guys you want to date.
I'd be there for you like you knew I would,
and I know you mean love when you say 'hate.'

So please keep in mind, I will be home soon.
Just wait seven more days, one more week,
and all the shed tears will be dried by noon.
No more need to cry, no need to be meek."

...but my older brother, he was too brave,
for that night, the war took him to his grave.

The drums beat hard,
a constant banging.
Getting louder
and Louder
and LOUDER
until eventually,
they can't be ignored.
Until everyone knows their songs.
The songs that say
beauty is in perfection.
That money is happiness.
And that cruelty is the only way
to protect yourself.
But the drums,
they play off beat.
They do not sing in truth,
But in lies, to shape,
And mold
And fold
us all into perfect
plastic mannequins.
But you can make your own beat.
And play LOUDER
Than all of society's drums.