Lost
Murderbait
Looks like we lost
Nostalgia like a cancer for days that never were
You were miserable then your miserable now
Yet never before did that thought occur
Take up that torch
Handed down by your fathers, and fathers before
Take that torch now
Burn down all you see
Yesterday, today, and furthermore
Given the blade I would cut off my hands
Given the chance I’d forfeit my feet
Take them to stifle plans
Take them for fear of where this path leads
Calling on the gods
To show mercy for the violence of your own hand
Watch the death toll tower
And question their grace as you kill all you can
A loaded gun gifted to thieves
The storehouse keys placed in the hands
Of the ones who'd gladly watch us starve
I have no words to speak
Says the wise man
While the fool takes his crown