outspoken, they pull the puppetsnnby the strings around their eyesnnwhile the telltale bricks of our politicsnncaress romanticidennnntrading martyrs and trendsnnfor worlds that lack lifennso the colors can breathe the skynnnnso heard the manicsnnthat their shadow is set in stonennit's easy to get lost when you've found your homennbut who's to countnnnow that the pendulum is gonennfor every other clicknnthere's something else your mind lets slipnnnna bird's eye view from the starsnnshows the epitome of who we arennchased in a maze by a crazed cuckoo clocknndancing in the shadows of an intricate time bombnn-nnand out of the womb we'll get lostnnand we'll burn too, right by the crossnnand by that cross where we got lostnnrobbing all the banks and staring at the starsnn-nnthis is just the politicsnnthis is just the poisonnnan eighty proof treasonnnbefore we're hung overnn-nnwhat do i see as i stumble aroundnnyour body is resting in the crevice of a cloudnncasting a spell, i'll shift the skynnso the tears won't wake you when the angels crynnnn20,000 stringsnnentangled waltzing wingsnnquetzalcoatl screams for a melody she singsnnembrace these bloodshot eyesnnas i'm pulling back the pinsnncause where i'm going nextnnthey don't let the angels innnnnnow they're broken by the tidesnnthese strings around their eyesnnwhile they show in melodiesnnpieces seen for the first timennnnwhile the rest remain enthrallednnby the shadows on the wallnnas a closing curtain singsnnthe majority will fallnn(and these melodies enthrallnnwaltzing colors on the wallnnbut i still refuse to singnnthe majority will fall)
Romanticide
The Tempest Armada
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