This life provides no sympathy for me I need to make peace with my mortality Dethroned, cast out on the songs our fathers raised In beds with thieves, rejoice no heroes praised
Ink, heart, blood, pen Honesty made a martyr of me For what is at stake, watch it burn
Tear arms sycophants, pouring down every plague Tyrants and spores in rapture salvation is made The ghost of truth held in clandestine labs Strike one, strike two, this misery is all i have
What i am, is falling away, my sanity is a nightshade
Say it once, say it again, like the ink in my heart, Like the blood in this pen
