Tonight I saw two eyes staring down at me in this valley of ashes and I realized what a grotesque thing a rose is I've been grasping at a light that seems
I can't see past your slick veneers. Your empty eyes, your hollow sneers. Why not just kill yourselves instead? You fucking people are already dead
There's a burning cross on a hillside. Still bright after all these years. And you want to just smile and ignore it, but I hear your fucking fear.
Idealism is fucking dead. Laughed off the stage at countless conventions. Laissez faire is en vogue again. It's silver tongue has been heaven sent
Fate flickers like a newsreel. It's dancing across the dark wood restaurants, the empty sidewalks, and the hotel lobbies that have started to fade
Wrap your arms around me. I'm fucking freezing, and I just saw napalm in your eyes. Rip off what's left of another day, another crash. I'm not good
The Cul-de-sac jungle is a cruel place. It's a living rotting failure from a different age. And if you're looking for the place that dreams go to die
Thank god we've got heroes like you, who bravely stride forward when duty calls. Just slow enough that people can still whisper in your ear. And if
It hurts sometimes to think about how far away this is from what you'd hoped for. The way things were supposed to stay. And though you learned a lesson
Tonight I saw two eyes staring down at me in this valley of ashes, and I realized what a grotesque thing a rose is. I've been grasping at a light that
If what it boils down to is that "you're either for us or against us," I guess I've got a tough, tough choice to make. 'Cause hollow patriotic actions
Hate comes in whispers, not angry yells. Creeping through your nightmares, leaving putrid smells. And there's a million stories of sordid private lives