the crystal heart is pure but hollow
taking steps towards the altar in a not so pure embrace
the lonely eyes once draped in sorrow
find a sympathetic partner in a bottle labeled rye
awake the sleeper nothing changes just redefines
a normal life so boring and depressing and cliche
awake the sleeper
a rural beach that calms the squatter staring blankly at the sunrise waiting for the world to end
at once a king of men now sunken to a suicidal drunk and pathetic waste of aire