We circle the corridors
We fade into the blackness
This web, our life
We keep spinning through the madness

Our eyes they are as black as onyx
Blind to your love of gold
What we see are the ruins
Our gift from those of old

We hear the sigh of angels
Not from the voice of saints
But through the sinner’s whisperings
Whose actions this world taints

We are clad in stark conviction
Yet our minds whisper doubt
Do you practice what you preach?
Or just speak from the deep without?

Tiptoe around the truth
Oh what bliss, what joy delight
But we’ll be singing you and I
By the gallows come midnight

We raise the cup high
And deep to the dregs we drink
Let us feel, let us heal
No, tonight we shall not think

We are not right, we are not wrong
You won’t stop us singing our song
With these last words…fill the halls of your hearts
We are
We are
We just are

-Chiseche

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