A cry for help

 

 

  There is a deep crowded heart

A cold interrior in the brick house

 

There is a face on the childrens heads

A plastic surface, a cruel lie

 

Locked away in the brick house

There is a wailing ocean

   A chattering tide swollowing the dieing sparrow

This relentless sea

The place the sparrow must be

He looked over the edge of the cliff to see

    Rotting arms

Burning corpses reaching for his flesh

They cry for his eturnal company

 

Dive, submerge, emerce yourself dear friend

   Hold my hand

As we stand at the black door

As we walk through the door, take a look inside

 

Realize why the faceless children here

    Try to die...