The world 

Would rather I die 

As I try 

To rise to the sky

As they say the futures in your eye

I cry 

Because I see 

The tragedies 

Of just letting things be

We're lead to dread

Most likely to be dead

In a cycle of insanity

That leads us to praise vanity

To mold the man in me 

To wanting to control 

Hold, break, shake, mold, fuck

Everything we see

A man 

Is not one who simply stands 

Plans, toil lands

But one who demands

Forces, coerces, calls it worthless

Works it, Hurts it, deserts it 

Wants it all perfect

Precision, their mission

To slip in

Through cracks, corners,

Behind backs,

Through lies,

And how many have died

On the land on which they reside

Not justified and tied

To greed 

And the desperation 

Turned hatred

To succeed 

Through any means

Was daily routine

And though many screamed 

Bled, 

Were left twisted and dead

They continued to tread

Trying to spread

Empty ambitions

As if it's worth living

Lying behind wealth

The only thing that's felt

Is the vain cries for help

Knowing they're dying 

For the profit of someone else