"Perfection" - Declined

You know,
It’s just ’bout time to make the image stop smiling,
It’s defiling
Every line of every song you’ve listened to now;
Gilded paper shillings sent from "heaven" to home
Causing life in the cemetary,
Bringing hell to the cold.
We dress up like paper dolls, draw on us as you wish!
We’ll be dancing to all your songs, we’ll clean up every dish,
But when night comes
You’re left to ask of
Who the hell we are,
Made up of paper slits
Covering up every scar.
You force your hand tightly
On a child who dreams;
His eyes are given sight
So that alone, he can see-
Leave him be!
He can walk on his own if you let him
And when he dances to his song,
It’s pure tragedy-don’t let him!

Now you see, now you see
Hell’s fire at eye.
Ask what you may, but the facts; they won’t be tried.
You can’t deny that your acts have sifted through lies
A perfect life that’s been covered with ominous skies.
You tell me, "That’s the world."
You tell me, "It’s safe..."
You tell me, all along, "We’re ok! We’re ok!
"Stay under us child, we’ll save you from all the hate."
But with where you both gone now,
I’m here to debate.
Where is home? Where is home?
I’m left in the cold,
I’ve been out here forever
More than you’ll ever know;
"By now, it just..."-I’m sick!
Of having my chopped up words
Screaming out of filtered speakers
Cutting out every verse!
Should I laugh, should I cry?
I’ll just strum picks till I die...
Wondering why, my God,
Have I been left outside
To find a new place to grab my wings and fly;
To find this better place away from you and the Lie.

This "home" is a prison
My room is a cell,
But I’m too good at bluffing,
See this? Can’t you tell?
I write down scripts to plays that I just play too well,
And before your very eyes, my mask is just thick as hell.
Can’t you tell?
They’ve been rhyming,
And two-timing every beat,
Glued in their seats,
Conforming,
To a life of defeat.
But not me,
I’ll stand out and break the mold of "original".
I’ll redefine my dictionary,
I’ll make my stuff uncontrollable!
So when you look down,
Into the deep, from high clouds;
You’ll realize you’re low.
Down to earth, a bastard;
Still dead on the floor.
Water taps the brain but the ears don’t listen,
You’re shut off, non-existent;
Driven by sex and instinct.



So when I come out at night
Bring my pick and my drum,
I strum away the light
Thinking of what I have done,
Making sure my every step has some form of meaning
Thinking twice before I let my heart give into the feelings
Of remorse.
We’ve all just been too tired to know
That your wretched daylight no longer can show
On the wicked, the proud,
Or the excessively loud
Renown for breaking norms
And reaching into the clouds.
As for me, I’m told to get back in line;
"Stop chasing dreams boy,
You’ll just end up confined."
But not I,
I’ll use my wit, my savvy, God-given might
To bring spite
To those who have been stealing my mic.
It’s tight...but I’m still a son of the Light;
Don’t fight, we’re all a family...
Right?