Sanguine lineage of a mutt prophet,
It swills casterly around a brass basin,
Dip your gourd in crimson tide
and take your fill of sin.
These dreams of the commoner,
To be left to ponder bread,
While chasers put pace to destiny
we are forgotten like the dead,
We never wanted it anyway;
This turmoil that griefs and hurts us,
But we feel,
And we eat,
And we dream this despair...
Keep us as you would a loved one,
Don't think we rejected that love,
We feared it was false and tricksy,
Yet we found honesty in despair,
Now fate wants to keep us there,
We lab rats of some entropy,
Running a wheel to nowhere,
Generating a boring nothing.
Take us back,
Don't think we've changed...
We only wanted that moment
but it was all or nothing it seems,
We call now from a kingdom,
Not quite heaven and not quite hell,
We are grimoired in a satire,
Our failure delights the children,
And you all know only our failings,
You don't see us trying in hell.