I've met that point in my life.
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Want came to need.
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Burn these fields of corn, that surround.
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My harvest gone at the price of maturity.
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But these remains I've left to rot will be resurrected again and again
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by the next generation of children who want to change minds
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with the stain on hand.
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But, it's deeper than this, I'm not the only one who sees, it lies in diversity;
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acceptance to a degree, only to a degree.
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The fire that once occupied my eyes has spread to destroy this world
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I have grown. You have nothing new to scream beyond your fields
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and not a second of patience to learn from me the same.
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This time I harvest the crops of my past.
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As far as the demigods are concerned, I've sold myself out just the same.
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I've burned bridges to feign brothers.
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Brothers of nothing more than a simple label.
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So now, I'm in control after all, for myself I prove I still am.
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But within these fields, they'll say I never was
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Burned Bridges
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| Get Up Kids |
