Our true nature is not one of decorum.
We dress in ties only to wield the knife.
When pressure's on and all alarms sound.
It's all for themselves. It'll seem like hell.
But I see a silver lining.
A speck of light through the thick of the trees.
I see hands reaching out and those that grab them,
Pulling them up to see their inner supreme.
No one is watching but you wouldn't know different.
Who would bleed for that which isn't green?
My kind, conflicted, who know their darkness.
Drown leviathans to ensure dreams.
Illustrating the code of our tribe,
Shunned in spite of "modernism's apostasy".
It's our tribe!
The sun comes up.
Fuels our lives and burns our eyes.
Drenched in warmth within a lifetime.
Cold solitude at the end of time.
We dress in ties only to wield the knife.
When pressure's on and all alarms sound.
It's all for themselves. It'll seem like hell.
A speck of light through the thick of the trees.
I see hands reaching out and those that grab them,
Pulling them up to see their inner supreme.
Who would bleed for that which isn't green?
My kind, conflicted, who know their darkness.
Drown leviathans to ensure dreams.
Illustrating the code of our tribe,
Shunned in spite of "modernism's apostasy".
Fuels our lives and burns our eyes.
Drenched in warmth within a lifetime.
Cold solitude at the end of time.
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