Sitting up and rubbing tired, rested eyes,

The conscience rises to intercept the lies

The secrets of the competition pleasure are revealed

Escaping from the mighty cage that once was locked and sealed

Despite living in hell, this saint has kept his head quite cool

Seething, he could no longer sit there like a fool

Angered, restless, shamed, tired and torn

Locked up in that cage since the day that he was born

Suffering in silence, his fate would not be known

In a society where everybody, on the inside, isn't on their own



Waking up to see the light

Grab the heart strings

Pull them tight

There's a pain

Inside my chest

As artificial face gets laid to rest



Outbursts no longer controlled, measured, sensible and kept in check

He laughs and looks me in the eye, as he tightens the noose around my neck

Grab my arm and take me away

Show me thoughts of yesterday



Tomorrow could have been much brighter

If he hadn't reared his ugly head

He's trying to prevent the sinning

And trying to make me repent instead

I'll try to pretend that I like it

So defeat doesn't cloud my soul



So when I cry

Turn out the light

Spare my foes

The ugly sight

I'll kick and thrash

Until he's still

Only he can win

My mind is ill



My mind is ill

So I'll kick and thrash

Until he's still



The ugly sight

Not seen by my foes

There is not light



His triumph over me

Has improved my social grace

For once the bad man has been put

In the one and only place

Where he cannot hurt the loved ones

ANYMORE

NEVER AGAIN

No, Not more