• I'm telling you here,
    The world's a book.
    The End's so near,
    Why don't you look?

    It's filled with truth,
    But buttered with lies.
    You'll ruin your youth,
    Seeking foes in disguise.

    Sights and sounds seem decieving.
    But, our senses tell us right.
    These lies we're still believing,
    Even when the path is bright.

    Night is the truest part of day,
    The stars spark our only hope.
    The blackness, like hope's decay.
    The black out-weighs stars: we mope.

    Sadness brings forth the demon,
    Screaming his foul lullabies.
    Turning to slaves: free men,
    At least until the sun does rise.