I awoke to the song of the storm
With truths bestowed from dreams
They said that I don't wear the animal
The animal wears me
What is life but a murderess?
Birth merely heralds the countdown to death
Mortality shows beauty with each passing breath
Yet, this envy of gods pays the ferryman's debt
For this envy of gods, we pay
Mystics and men of god preach that
Reality lies in the things that we can't see
And not the base idols that we fancy
Yet, they anchor themselves here
Until old age claims its lease
They anchor here until they're claimed
What are we but murderers
That drown innocence dead?
And I've been stabbed so many times
I can't see through the red
What is this world but a murderess?
Everywhere you turn there's someone behind
To sink the knife in your back, your soul, or mind
Or seduce your senses, left helpless and high
We're animals lost in the wildwood
Where mediocrity thrives and pure souls are cursed
Where sheep are sharks and move in herds
The lion, a vagabond on a backwards earth
What are we but murderers
That drown innocence dead?
And I've been stabbed so many times
I can't see through the red