The blind and the hopeless, in numbers they do prey,
Their road to salvation is surely paved with hate,
Two thousand years into our utter misery,
Their lost cause, reflected in the broken glass,
Demons dance, upon dying horizons,
Fulfill my shallow expectations,
Heartbreak bred these pack hunters,
Bravery, displayed within their cowardly swarms,
Prove me wrong…
I don't want your love,
I don't want your helping hands,
I just want out of this quicksand baby!