A continuous disillusioned pursue for the truth
Leaves us a disposition with which whom we give our youth
Too long we spend suffocating life with a macabre stride
A man made pride massages our godlike egos inside.
Pesticide said the blind man's eye. Genocide to a righteous mind.
We are a frighten pride, full of cowards dressed in lion furs
Bunch of sheep committing suicide. Truth is a line that's constantly blurred.
A wandering wind against the tides of destiny's oceans
We are the simply color against the canvas, brush strokes
Trying to paint the motions.
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