When hell's demons took over the politicians
Nobody noticed
When black mothers cried for their children
Nobody heard
When we cried out for justice
Nobody listened
When  we were desperate for a change
Nobody provided
When the blind man asked for a penny
Nobody granted
We are the ones out for blood
And yours will do

Hell is full of the misunderstood
Innocent souls who tried to do good
Twisted into something dark
Their wrath becomes a tangible mark
Who is to help them,
When they’re already condemned?
Is there someone to help you?
What can anyone do?
Haven is full of the ****-up’s
They got in by the poison in your cup
Who is to oppose them,
When they know of your own sin?
Where can you go?
That won’t cost your soul?

Dead is dead
And gone is gone
You liked her
Because she turned
Your sadness
Into poetry
And you were so
Wrapped up in your mind
You never saw into hers
And now she is dead
And dead is dead
And now she is gone
And gone is gone

I am a broken mirror
I was broken years ago
No one has swept me up
I’m still scattered on the floor
I still make scars
That no one will see
I still see my scared reflection
Yelling to stop the breaking

I am a musician;
I can play you like a guitar.
I’m on a mission,
To break you apart.
The broken, ****** bottle falls from my hand;
A guitar pick hangs from my neck.
Maybe if you’d been more of a man,
I wouldn’t be such a wreck.
The room is quiet now,
You’re almost in Death’s hand.
I make my silent vow,
That when I bury you in this land,
You’ll stop haunting me;
And I’m deaf to your pleas.