READ BETWEEN THE LINES
THERE'S SO MUCH MORE TO LIFE THAN THIS
OPEN UP YOUR EYES
SEE THE COLORS THAT DON'T EXIST

IF YOU CAN MAKE A FIST THEN YOU CAN FIGHT
DEATH WITH APPLAUSE & YOU KNOW ITS RIGHT
CLOUDS FILL THE AIR & I'M LOSING SITE
OF WHATS REALLY REAL & WHATS WRONG OR RIGHT

BROKEN TELEVISION
WITH MY REFLECTION ON THE SCREEN
CLEANSE YOUR INNER VISION
FILL THE SPACES IN BETWEEN

EXPAND REALITY
THEY BLIND FOLD YOU SO YOU CANT SEE
ITS SUCH HYPOCRISY
THEY PUSH IT ALL ON YOU AND ME

IF YOU CAN MAKE A FIST THEN YOU CAN FIGHT
DEATH WITH APPLAUSE & YOU KNOW ITS RIGHT
CLOUDS FILL THE AIR & I'M LOSING SITE
OF WHATS REALLY REAL & WHATS WRONG OR RIGHT

in my heart
there is pain that knowone feels
in my heart
know one knows

The cold metal guides the sun,
To the eyes of the man,
Covered in black.

Cloaked in a haunting shadow,
He sharpens his blade,
And cleans his tool,
With a rag, so red,
It's ominous in his hand.

Cleaning his blade,
Silently keeping all the blood hidden,
Is his purpose as well as killing.

His last victom, wept and cried,
The screams still there,
In the deep red depths of his eyes.

Knowone can really clean a sinned blade,
And likewise,
The executioner cannot become a clean slate.