Echo, you privilege soul
Stand by as I pillage your home
Watch as they rave your condemnation
We have yet to live.
Castaway your gaze
Looking towards the sea
And behold the real me.
Gape into the looking glass
And you will see
We are the same
My fortune has not yet been read.
But soon time will tell
We are one of a kind
Blind to their eyes but clear to you as day.
As sneaky as a fox to a woodland gray.
Come dearly, stoop my way
Your head bowed in shame and fear
Begotten by all your sorrows
Forgotten is who the last hero was
And No one ever knows his name
On this day your soul and spirit
Is stained and soiled
Right down to your rickety, chilly bones
By the heart-broken yonder
You are the ugly Grinch in all of the timeworn story tales
Your soil is as greasily oiled with agony inducing pity
No, time has passed over your veins
Your helplessness has eaten into your consciousness
When will this reign of freight end?
I guess we shall stand in the rain until then