DESCRIPTION:
I am mine, are we so advanced that we'd stum our
advancement and we so civilized lust over
weaponry. crucify the thieves, as we steal from
our children. Thou shalt not kill, we do it three
times a day what's the problem? What went wrong?
And home becomes a cage. These nine numbers lay
seed to rage. We are bound by this modern age.
Number rules you. Social insecurity. Turn to
non-entities. We are bound by this modern age. I
was told too many things Held the small hand of
hope. Until it turned to ash in mine. It was
spelled out for me form the start. Convenience and
disregard mated and there was born my predicament
but sometimes longing spits on logic and we
proceed blind smiling.