The problem with
The sound of silence
It has a nasty habit
Of opening doors
To thoughts
One never thought of
Before

When those
Who play
With the pattern
Of Life
It is Only
The honest
And the poor
That Pay
The Price

Mommy
Yes baby
Could you
Tell that man in America
To give me back my legs
Could you tell him
Whatever i did
I'm sorry
I promise
Never to do it again
Sob

My eyes tell me
You look beautiful
But my mind
Insists
On knowing
What lays beneath
The chemicals
That are hanging on your skin

Strange world
Where people believe
That Original Sin
Is Not
Wilful Ignorance

You let them in
You opened your Door Wide
Because what they say
How they say it
The moves That they make
That Convince You They are Friends
As they Slowly **** you Dry
Of Everything That is You
In Your Desperate need
To have Friends
And Now You pay the Price
Always thinking about Their Wellbeing
As yours
Slowly Decays

It is said
Your Only as Wise
As Your Wilful Ignorance
Allows You To Be