I object to this line of questioning
|
There is something festering behind your eyes
|
Beneath your words misplaced
|
And in my face
|
You are not just telling me what you think
|
But swinging some rusty axe that has been weighing you down
|
Speaks volumes about your inability to understand
|
This scene, this struggle, that has existed so long before
|
You and will continue happily without you
|
You remain so unclear
|
You have no idea
|
What this music's about or
|
Why we stand here before you always
|
Striving, always melting
|
Bleeding crying into these instruments
|
And for what
|
Not you
|
This has nothing repeat nothing
|
To do with your ignorant arrogant ass
|
Or some preset image of some preset scene
|
Of some set of rules
|
As safe and as boring as a ride on a carousel
|
You have come to the wrong tree to bark
|
And your wishes they fall on deaf ears
|
And our wheels roll on
|
And while you sit at home and wish that you could
|
Stay the same
|
What have you ever risked, pulled your heart out for
|
The world to judge, created something out of nothing
|
Punched holes in what used to be
|
Set fire to what is supposed to be
|
Then shut your mouth about what you want this to be
|
We don't care
|
|
-----------------
|
You Wrote This Song For Me
|
| Bane |
