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She Alone

de Silence

A city filled with fakes and fucks
Disease abundant and guilt non-existent
The only feeling I have for this place
The pure hatred that runs through my fucking veins

Where is your originality?
A lack to think with your own head

I am the closest thing to a God
In a church full of followers
Even without grounds to what I preach
You rely on my every word
You're a waste
Your reality is based off my every word

Feasting off others ideas was never such an understatement
My goals have been set, and will be completed

Open your mind, your originality is gone
Open your eyes, there is no place like home

There is no fucking place like home

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