16 bombs in a dead mans chest. 16 keys have turned a lock from a silhouette. The breaking box of of tension by the sex, the cries of mild regret. Quiet, quiet... Nobody needs to hear the sound of silence desperate in an ear as a years worth of tension comes undone. The story that the profit could not tell, a year of sin wont get you hell..oh, "but it fits so well."
So blind me from your company, and I'll meet you where the sunlight meets the rose. And though its sad for some, propaganda has won, but we won't let you steal our souls.
So why regret the upset and inside out? Lets well up and comb the cell. For cells and psychopaths and minds not well pass the confrontational through will and woe. And the Mild learn their cause for the absence of a visionary pause, while the psychic signs the line that files divorce. And all at this same time the foe of a school boy just might find himself in bully's way, but the sidewalk seemed so comforting. We don't care about the crisis, no. Or that blood can't be replaced by material. We don't care that corporate co.'s won't let policies bend, its money that will cause the world to end. And MTV shows grow more shallow with each passing year causing insecurities to lead our greatest fear. Well ignorance is Bliss and thats why we all choose to ignore the fact that we surround ourselves with gasoline and matches held. We don't care anymore, no we don't care anymore. We've come to far to lead from the start.

Lyrics submitted by when.the.sun.sleeps

Breaking Box song meanings
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