Dawn into those dusky eyes
Awaken from the chirp of those melancholy birds
Springtime arrives like the mind of a new born
We mold ourselves into whom we shall be
This pen used to be my savior,
now it's my enslaver
These whispers were a family,
now they deceive me
and if believing is a deadly sin
then send the locus after me.

In heaven do debt collectors exist
harassing and scalping
my past, present, future
from inside the gates
while you wait
If so,
I'd take this piercing pain pain from inside me
and pray for longevity.
Jesus Christ must of learned his lesson
ressurected after three days
and never returned.

In life I was raised
surronded by
concrete, pollution, and corupt political sayings
but they want to bury me underneath a tree.

Shows how hell is a preplanned decision
but heaven only counts the last few breaths I breathed.
It's an inconvenient truth to remember
humans were once the minority.

Face down in the dirt,
better then seeing a best friend kick me.