Would you embrace the mask behind the face?
Or torture the soul beyond time and space?
Alone in corners with heads between our knees,
We were never meant to ask ourselves questions like these,
But we do indeed.
Nocturnally we bleed, in the moonlights stampede,
Soaked in the nakedness of pain,
We tell the world that it's ours once again,
And settle for a consciousness that's a little more mundane.
