#1
K. It's more of a poem than a song. Crit for crit, gents.

A tortuous cliff is narrow and winded
A soft feathered bed narrow and clean
The tortuous ones are slow and close minded
The untangled people pristinely serene

There exists nothing in this world more obscene, terrifying and obvious than a person who speaks out in vain.

Safer and clearer as the cliff unravels
The soft feathered bed edging nearer
I see the mild creatures and raise the gavel
We’ve almost reached the hearer

They grace us by being bearable, but leave us wanting more. Akin to diving into a half filled pool, perhaps they will one day turn into butterflies.

‘Neath the cliff, sitting with frowns
Sprawled on soft feathered beds
They are looking up but looking down
Slowly they turn there heads

Hypocrisy. No words. Just listening.
"Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, your eyes will get sore after a while."
#3
It's pretty much about different types of people. Some are straightforward, others aren't. That's the jist.
"Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, your eyes will get sore after a while."