| Vomit soaked dreams of perfection
|
| Stain the procelain bowl
|
| Of sorrow feeding upon our imperfections
|
| Throwing back into our faces the putrid values
|
| It was gifted
|
| Skin deep and unnatural
|
| We weep mourning
|
| The glancing blows
|
| Of a lance designed to mold
|
| Urns carring the cure to a diseased body
|
| As told by the godly dictators of the image factory
|
| The aftertaste of the emaciated
|
| Omit soaked dreams of perfection
|
| Stain the procelain bowl
|
| Of sorrow feeding upon our imperfections
|
| Throwing back into our faces the putrid values
|
| It was gifted
|
| Of sorrow feeding upon our imperfections
|
| The bile of the rail thin subjected on us
|
| Vomit soaked dreams of perfection
|
| Stain the prorcelain bowl
|
| Of sorrow feeding upon our imperfections
|
| Throwing back into our faces the putrid values
|
| It was gifted
|
| We are more than the flesh we keep
|
| We are more than the desire of perfeciton s
|
| Kin deep and unnatural
|
| Vomit soaked dreams skin deep and unnatural
|
| We weep mourning the glancing blow
|
| Of a lance designed to mold
|
| We are more that the flesh we keep |
| We are more than the desires of perfection |