Hustle and bustle, strangers passing me by,
Leaders of madness, dying, behind glazed over eyes,
Stare straight through me and my existance revised,
Tells me that nothing is certain, and all truth can only be lies.
Lies that lead from a devious mind, crying in silence,
Left only to find that silence will be broken,
And train of though left behind,
Philosophy shattered and intelligence denied,
You left me for one who couldn't commit because you didn't see,
That the tear in your heart was the refusal of me,
That the hole in the bottomless pit of society,
Was filled with another, but only in lapse of sobriety,
If you'd explained situations, that occered long ago,
Our wilting would never have developed, permitted to grow.
But these rips are like ladders in destiny's tights,
They only get longer, and truth can only become lies,
If the code is not broken, am I then left to summise
That the evidence you created was because you loved me...behind blue eyes.
