We paraded the streets since before recollection
Of bullets and knives, of brains we painted
Never alone, but with people identical
I run with blindfolds chaining my hands
A race to wherever the fittest point fingers at
Back and for, weary, nothing else to do anyways
And to search to destroy this hamster-wheel life
Is torturous shortcut with no end in sight.
Always would the right for the heavier stones
In scales made unbreakable by its very fiction
To rebel long enough amounts public guillotine
We duly promulgate in devilish aid
Will I live short enough, preserve my innocent face
Or rot in a breathing corpse, at the doors of asylum?
Not too sure if I warrant this arrest
But authority is a license I will never get.