But a Fleeting Illness

<br>Here we are, back to play the same old games as if things never changed.<br>The blood still tastes the same. Ash to ash, back to back and dust to dust.<br>You look so upper-crust. So rich with broken trust.<br>Can you hear your conscience`s crying wash the fields of dead and dying ex-acquaintances?<br>Jogging over skulls and leg bones. Drown the crunch out with your headphones.<br>If you`re so rich then pay for what you`ve done.<br>Under the influence. Keep me off the road when you`re around me. My love you make me sick.<br>There you are, a tool of their familiar game. Your lies still smell the same.<br>Your kind are still to blame. Upper class. This machine you built to last.<br>You`d better spend it fast. I am about to break the spell you cast.<br>I`ll bury you next to your ego and mark the grave to burn when we go up in flames again.<br>Now I`m not afraid to kill this. You are but a fleeting illness. The emptier, the easier to break. <br>Let the clock spin sweetly on its way and your face will blur and fade away.<br>Wash your hands, they reek of what you`ve done. Just a fraud. Just having fun.<br>Now dance for me, you fucking puppet