Why can't we ever face all our pain
Why do we have to give our problems a name...

A fine wheel going round and round
Spinning through space...

There are times we wanted to pull that trigger
At the bottom of a loaded gun...

Instructions written on the overhead
The people listed that they want dead...

*This poem was written as a song and is...
Hello, it's nice to meet someone like you...

Open the book of sins
And calculate the next victim...

Open the door and slam it in my face
All this pain for a brief embrace...

Bright pictures of better times
Broken mirrors of thought-out crimes...

Blinking lights of yellow and blue
None of the masses had any clue...

Glasses of wine filled to the top
Taking advantage of every single drop...

Your black heart decieves with a clever stain
The bloodshot eyes are all that remain...

Slashes and circles all look the same
Life and death is now a game...