White Walls

Album by: Colors

Artist by: Between The Buried And Me

The monsters are made,

And we have proven that we will be one of them.

The whores take the stage, flash our skills

Gotta draw ＇em in, gotta keep ＇em on their toes

Don＇t show them how you truly are

Who would want honesty

Who would want a group of people that one can relate with.

We need worship, we need devotion

Becoming gods from the image that is thrown

Thrown out in their everyday lives to comfort

It＇s not a musical journey anymore

They chose Camilla and we stood by her the entire time

Monotonous expression, a forced replica of a tired sound

Puppets for a greed-driven carnival

The same charade as the passing years

Force me out there.

Don＇t give them a chance.

They want to be fed, fed a simple replication of past greatness.

(Things have changed, we have changed.

Personal happiness is what we strive to achieve

So you can love or hate, it won＇t change a thing for us.)

Step back.

Evaluate.

Recognize.

We just need to throw some new ideas in

(It) will eventually get out of this closed off circle we are part of

It＇s all the same.

This is all we have when we die.

It＇s what＇s left of us when we die.

We will be remembered for this.

White wall.