It infiltrates, insidious
It feints at love, betrays our trust

In what we've known since we were born
The truth we've found in all we see points to design
Still our chests swell
We'll never find true answers from a wishing well
So feed us all another lie, to still our thoughts
Appease our pride, so we won't have to change the way
We see, we live, we love, we die
Our lust precede, our blasphemy

Our logic reads like notes from tainted autopsy
Our souls they speak of something more
But we can't look beyond ourselves
We implore empty skies because our hearts hold room
For no one else

We extend our claws to grasp at shadows of the ideas we have lost
Casualties of a subtle dagger
Buried to the gild in our heart
Blood on our hands