We are the synthom, the final pretender!nTake these words and cut deep, lacerate the soiled flesh.nImpace the brittle bone and we'll bleed together.nnLet this be my color of life, you can't deny you sharpen the knife.nAnd you can't decide all the way you come back home.nYou cannot lie cos my hand does know how to speak.nPen for a knife, dusk until dawn clouded by past, until I'm found.