You who's coming up the stairs,
Shouting-
I’m coming, dying like sick disgusting…
I wish they'd understand.
We might clear out.
I'm stuck with my mind in the gutter...
---
Hey, little thing.
Hey, little thing within.
Don't believe these stories.
Don't let them in.
There's only one for you.
There's one within that's true.
If you see truth for sale,
And buy it with your soul,
You'll see confetti flying, color bearing the Earth.
And when the fanfare dies away, the silence sucks you in its wake
To spend a lifetime living out, the fantasies of salesmen.
Underneath the thoughts beneath your feet,
There's a fortress-
Dig deep!
The slings and arrows never breached your walls.
The tales have smothered them all,
So bring in the archaeologists
To unearth your heritage and take you home.
There was a picture, hung in the nursery
Drawn from faded scripture, to teach me what to see:
A world where we're all helpless sinners,
Damned in weakness to slavery.
I voted in, gave up my eyes, drew in the shining myths,
The selfless deeds, the battle cries, the conquerors, the kings.
And so I drowned into a land, and watched my blunted teeth dissolve.
The sweet acidic resignation, damned to breathe obedience.
Underneath the thoughts beneath your feet,
There's a fortress-
Dig deep!
The slings and arrows never breached your walls.
The tales have smothered them all,
So bring in the archaeologists
To unearth your heritage and take you home.
The walls you thought were lost weren't walls at all,
No one truer victory!
Bring in the archaeologists
To unearth your heritage and take you home.
