To set the scene... silence; cut with violence,
a young girl screams, then blue and red sirens
You're no one on a weekday, the hate haemorrhages behind your face
Weekend warriors come out to play only to be put back into place
I put you back in your place
Make no mistake your tongues on a tightrope,
when it falls you'll break
They walk as kings amongst men
Were just silhouettes of stereotypes trespassing in their kingdom
But you wont find me at your feet
I'll meet you in the place were life and death meet
Where justice is an obscenity
Where all traces of hope smoulder inside of me
At what point does blood boil?
Emptiness and boredom are a dangerous mix
Bite your tongue and become just another cog in the mechanics