Source
Everything has a price in this life,
shouted from the sideboard,
a small being, shadow and bridle,
product of a loveless system.
With glass eyes, and broken dreams,
reflection of a world in decay,
he'd had everyone in the distance,
but knew nothing of the truth in his heart.
Think wrong and you will be right,
preach the separatists,
as if in fear, in the compass,
would find the union, in the lists.
Division is in the air,
while a child watches the swaying,
our future, a game of catwalks,
where the soul is bought, where there is no one.
cried the little boy, with a crystal voice,
as the dreams went away on his back,
of a system that shuts down the home,
and of the love that manifests itself in the shadows.