The Average 歌词

Here is a picklock to open my sores here is a dagger to tear out my pages once you've tasted the unforgivable sin of fitting other souls to your greed your own one is forsaken born for cold-blooded expose with the lethal mark of vanity you live of the malice and anger harvesting sorrow and anguish despite the lovers you viciously killed despite the homes you left devastated despite the void growing inside you you won't feel the freedom of justice I need a right to believe to have ability to pray for our ways never crossing I will run, I will play dead but I will keep my hands clean from your contagious sadness dance, dance on the ruins of charity spit into faces of the poor seven rivers of far distant lands wash away this raging putridity If you can't make them open their eyes set their muddy hearts on fire humble science of feeling compassion will stay guarded day and night.